
PRESENTED BY 



1 n 



THE 

PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION; 

* 

OR, 

AN ILLUSTRATION 

OF THE 

MORAL LAWS OF THE UNIVERSE. 



BY THOMAS DICK, LL.D. 

AUTHOR OF THE CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHER, ETC. ETC. 



"Knowledge is power."— Lord Bacon. 
"Love is the fulfilling of the law."— Paul. 



PHILADELPHIA : 
KEY AND BIDDLE, 23 MINOR STREET. 

1836. 



44 



Gift 

Kent Law Book Co.* 
Jan. 22, 1937 



CONTENTS 



Introduction, . . . . . . v . . & 

CHAPTER I. 

On the Moral Relations of Intelligent Beings 

to their Creator, ........... 17 

CHAPTER II. 

Second Principle of Moral Action — Love to All 

Subordinate Intelligences, 80 

CHAPTER III. 

On the Moral Law, and the Rational Grounds 

on which its Precepts are founded, . . . 167 

CHAPTER IV. 

A Cursory Survey of the Moral State op the 

World , . . , . . 249 



PREFACE. 



To delineate the Moral bearings of the Christian Revelation, — to 
display the reasonableness and the excellence of its precepts, and the 
physical and rational grounds on which they rest, — and to exhibit a few 
prominent features in the moral aspect of the world, — were some of 
the principal objects which the Author had in view, in the composition of 
the following work. He is not aware that a similar train of thought has 
been prosecuted, to the same extent, by any preceding writer; and is 
therefore, disposed to indulge the hope, that it may prove both entertain- 
ing and instructive to the general reader, and to the intelligent Christian. 

It may not *>e improper to remind the reader that the Author's object 
simply is, to illustrate the topics he has selected as the subject of this 
volume. As he has taken his fundamental principles from the system of 
Revelation, he was under no necessity, as most ethical writers are, to 
enter into any laboured metaphysical discussions on the foundation of 
Morality, and the motives from which moral actions should proceed. — 
The truth of Revelation is, of course, taken for granted ; and all who ac- 
knowledge its Divine authority, will readily admit the principles which 
form the basis of the system here illustrated. But, although it formed no 
particular part of the author's plan to illustrate the evidences of the 
Christian Revelation, he trusts, that the view which is here given of the 
benignant tendency of its moral requisitions, will form a powerful pre- 
sumptive argument in support of its celestial origin. 

The Christian reader may also be reminded, that it is only the Philo- 
sophy of Religion which the Author has attempted to illustrate. It form- 
ed no part of his plan to enter into any particular discussion on the 
doctrines of Revelation, or on those topics which have so frequent- 
ly been the subject of controversy in the Christian church. It is not to 
support the tenets of Calvinism, Arminianism, Baxterianism, Arianism, or 
any other ism which distinguishes the various denominations of the Reli- 
gious world, that these illustrations are presented to public view ; but to 
elucidate an object which it appears to be the grand design of Revelation 
to accomplish, and in the promotion of which, every section of the Chris- 
tian church is equally interested, and to which they would do well to 
* take heed.'" — In his illustration of this subject, the Author has kept his 
eye solely on the two Revelations which the Almighty has given to 
mankind. — the system of nature, and the sacred records just as they 
stand, — without any regard to the theories of philosophers, the opinions 
of commentators, or the systems of theologians. He is disposed to view 
the Revelations of the Bible, rather as a series of important facts, from 
which moral instructions are to be deduced, than as a system of metaphy- 
sical opinions for the exercise of the intellect. 



4 



PREFACE. 



On the leading topics which have divided the Christian world, the 
Author has formed his own opinion, and has adopted those which he has 
judged, on the whole, to be most correct; but it is of no importance to 
the reader what these opinions are, or of what system of speculative theo- 
logy he is inclined, on the whole, to support. He sets very little value 
upon purely speculative opinions, except in so far as they tend to pro- 
mote the grand mo*al objects of Christianity ; and while he assumes the 
unalienable right of thinking for himself on the subject of religion, he is 
disposed to allow the same privilege to others. He believes, on the au- 
thority of Scripture, that 4t God is the Creator of heaven and earth ."— 
that "he is righteous in all his ways, and holy in all his works;" — that 
hois good to all, and that his tend;: m.3r_;es are over all his works:" — 
that " he so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that 
whosoever believeth on him might not perish, but have everlasting life 
that" Christ died for our sins, that he was buried, and that he rose again 
from the dead according to the Scriptures;" — -that " he is the propitiation 
for our sins, and that he ever lives to make intercession ;" — together 
with all the other facts and doctrines with which these are essentially con- 
nected. But he views the recognition of such doctrines and facts, not 
as the end of religion, but only as the means by which the great moral 
objects of Christianity are to be promoted and accomplished. 

In illustrating the Moral state of the world, the Author is sorry that he 
was obliged to compress his details within so narrow limits. Few readers, 
however, will appreciate the labour and research he was under the ne- 
cessity of bestowing, in order to select and arrange the facts which he 
has detailed. He has occasionly had to condense a long history or nar- 
rative, and even a whole volume, into the compass of two or three pages ; 
and to search through more than twenty volumes, in order to find mate 
rials to fill a couple of pages. With the same degree of research, (except 
ing the mechanical labour of transcription,) he might have filled several 
volumes with similar illustrations; and he is convinced that a work of 
this description, judiciously executed, would prove highly instructive, as 
well as entertaining, not only to the Christian world, but to readers of 
every description. 

Various topics connected with the Philosophy of Religion, still re- 
main to be illustrated. These shall form the subject of discussion in a 
future volume, should the present work be received with general appro- 
bation. 

Perth, January 



THE 



PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



INTRODUCTION. 

The objects of human knowledge may be reduced to two 
classes— -the relations of matter and the relations of inivd; or, 
<n other words, the material and the intellectual universe. Of 
these two departments of science, the intellectual universe is, 
in many respects, the most interesting and important. For, 
in so far as our knowledge and researches extend, it appears 
lighly probable, if not absolutely certain, that the material 
universe exists solely for the sake of sentient and intelligent 
reings — in order to afford a sensible manifestation of the attri- 
outes of the Great. First Cause, and to serve as a vehicle of 
thought and a medium of enjoyment to subordinate intelligen- 
ces. So intimately related, however, are these two objects of 
human investigation, that a knowledge of the one cannot be 
obtained but through the medium of the other. The opera- 
tions of mind cannot be carried on without the intervention of 
external objects; for if the material universe had never ex- 
isted, we could never have prosecuted a train of thought;* and 

* The whole train of ideas which passes through our minds on any sub- 
ject may be considered as the images of external objects variously modi- 
fied and combined. These images we receive through the medium of our 
senses, by which we hold a communication with the material world. All 
our ideas of God, and of the objects of religion, are derived from the same 
source. The illustrations of the attributes of the Deity, and of his moral 
administration, contained in Scripture, are derived from the external 
scenes of creation, and from the relations of human society consequently, 
had the material world never existed, we could have formed no concep- 
tions of the divine perfections similar to those which we now entertain, 
nor have prosecuted a train of thought on any other subject ; for the ma- 
terial universe is the basis of all the knowledge we have hitherto acquired, 
or can acquire, respecting ourselves, our Creator, or other intelligences. 
Any person who is disposed to call in question this position, must be pre- 
pared to point out, distinctly and specifically, those ideas or trains of 
thought which are not derived through the medium of the external sen- 
ses, and from the objects on which they are exercised. 



10 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



the beauties and sublimities of external nature can be perceiv- 
ed only by thinking beings, without the existence of which, 
the material universe would remain like a mighty blank, and 
might be said to have been created in vain. Hence it appears, 
that, previous to our inquiries into the nature and relations of 
mind, it is necessary, in the first place, to study the phenome* 
na of the material world, and the external actions of all those 
percipient beings with which it is peopled ; for the knowledge 
of the facts we acquire in relation to these objects must form 
the ground-work of all our investigations. 

We are surrounded, on every hand, with minds of various 
descriptions, which evince the faculties of which they are pos- 
sessed, by the various senses and active powers with which 
they are furnished. These minds are of various gradations, 
in point of intellectual capacity and acumen, from Man down- 
wards through all the animated tribes which traverse the re- 
gions of earth, air, and sea. We have the strongest reason to 
believe, that the distant regions of the material world are also 
replenished with intellectual beings, of various orders, in 
which there may be a gradation upwards, in the scale of intel- 
lect above that of man, as diversified as that which we per- 
ceive in the descending scale, from man downwards to the im- 
material principle which animates a muscle, a snail, or a mi- 
croscopic animalcula. When we consider the variety of ori- 
ginal forms and of intellectual capacities which abounds in our 
terrestrial system, and that there is an infinite gap in the scale 
of being between the human mind and the Supreme Intelli- 
gence, it appears quite conformable to the magnificent harmo- 
ny of the universe, and to the wisdom and benevolence of its 
Almighty Author, to suppose, that there are beings within the 
range of his dominions as far superior to man in the compre- 
hension and extent of mental and corporeal powers, as man is, 
in these respects, superior to the most despicable insect ; and 
that these beings, in point of number, may exceed all human 
calculation and comprehension. This idea is corroborated by 
several intimations contained in the records of revelation, 
where we have presented to our view a class of intelligences, 
endowed with physical energies, powers of rapid motion, and a 
grasp of intellect incomparably superior to those which are 
possessed by any of the beings which belong to our sublunary 
system. 

To contemplate the various orders of intelligences which 
people the material universe, and the relations which subsist 
among them — the arrangements of the different worlds to 
which they respectively belong—the corporeal vehicles bv 



INTRODUCTION. 



11 



rtrhich they hold a correspondence with the material system — 
the relation in which they stand to other worlds and beings, 
from which they are separated by the voids of space — and the 
excursions they occasionally make to different regions of that 
vast empire of which they form a part ; — to trace the superior 
intellectual faculties and the sensitive organs with which they 
are endowed — the profound investigations they have made into 
the economy of the universe — the trains of thought which they 
pursue, and the magnificent objects on which their faculties 
are employed — the emotions with which they view the scenes 
and transactions of such a world as ours— the means by which 
they have been carried forward in the career of moral and in- 
tellectual improvement— the history of their transactions since 
the period at which they were brought into existence — the 
peculiar dispensations of the Creator, and the revolutions that 
may have taken place among them — the progressions they 
have made from one stage of improvement to another — the 
views they have acquired of the perfections and the plans of 
their Almighty Sovereign — the transporting emotions of de- 
light which pervade all their faculties— and the sublime ado- 
rations they offer up to the Fountain of all their felicity — 
would constitute a source of the most exquisite gratification to 
every holy, intelligent, and inquiring mind. But, since we 
are at present confined to a small corner of the universe of 
God, and surrounded by immeasurable voids of space, which 
intervene between our habitation and the celestial worlds, 
through which no human power can enable us to penetrate, 
we must remain ignorant of the nature and economy of those 
intellectual beings, till our souls take their flight from these 
w tabernacles of clay," to join their kindred spirits in the invi- 
sible world. While we remain in our sublunary mansion, our 
investigations into the world of mind must, therefore, of ne- 
cessity, be confined to the nature and attributes of the Uncre- 
ated Spirit, and to the faculties of our own minds and those of 
the sensitive beings with which we are surrounded, These 
faculties, as they constitute the instruments by which all oui 
knowledge» both human and divine, is acquired, have employ- 
ed the attention of philosophers in every age, and have been 
the theme of many subtle and ingenuous speculations ; and 
they, doubtless, form an interesting subject of investigation to 
the student of intellectual science. 

But, of all the views we can take of the world of mind, the 
moral relations of intelligent beings, and the laws founded on 
(hese relations, are topics by far the most interesting and im- 
portant. This subject may be treated in a more definite and 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



tangible manner than the theories which have been formed re- 
specting the nature and operations of the intellectual powers. 
Illustrations, level to every capacity, and which come home to 
every one's bosom, may be derived both from l^ason and expe- 
rience, from the annals of history, and the records of revela- 
tion. It is not involved in the same difficulties and obscurity 
which have perplexed the philosophy of the intellect ; and 
there are certain principles which may be traced in relation to 
this subject, which apply to all the rational intelligences that 
God lias formed, however diversified in respect of the regions 
of the universe which they occupy, and in the extent of their 
intellectual powers. Above all, this subject is more intimately 
connected with the present and future happiness of man than 
any other which comes within the range of human investiga- 
tion ; and therefore, forms a prominent and legitimate branch 
of what may be termed 44 The Philosophy of Religion." 

That the moral relations of intelligent minds, and the tempei 
and conduct corresponding with these relations, are essentially 
connected with the happiness of every rational agent, might 
be made to appear from a variety of cases, in which the re- 
versing of certain moral laws or principles would inevitably 
lead to disorder and misery. I shall content myself with 
stating the following illustration : — We dwell in an obscure 
corner of God's empire ; but the light of modern science has 
shown us, that worlds, a thousand times larger than ours, and 
adorned with more refulgent splendours, exist w 7 ithin the range 
of that system of which we form a part. It has also unfolded 
to our view other systems dispersed throughout the voids of 
space, at immeasurable distances, and in such vast profusion, 
that our minds are unable to grasp their number and their 
magnitude. Reason and revelation lead us to conclude, thai 
all these woiids and systems are adorned with displays of di- 
vine wisdom, and peopled with myriads of rational inhabitants. 
The human mind, after it has received notices of such stupen- 
dous scenes, naturally longs for a nearer and more intimate in- 
spection of the grandeur and economy of those distant provin- 
ces of the Creator's empire; and is apt to imagine, that it 
w T ould never weary, but would feel unmingled enjoyment, 
while it winged its flight from one magnificent scene of crea- 
tion to another. But, although an inhabitant of our world 
were divested of the quality of gravitation, endowed with 
powers of rapid motion adequate to carry him along 44 to the 
suburbs of creation," and permitted by his Creator to survey 
all the wonders of the universe, if a principle of love and 
kindly affection towards fellow-intelligences did not animate 



INTRODUCTION. 



his mind, if rage and revenge, pride and ambition, hatred and 
envy, were incessantly rankling in his breast, he could feel no 
transporting emotions, nor taste the sweets of true enjoyment. 
The vast universe, through which he roamed, would be trans- 
formed into a spacious hell ; its beauties and sublimities could 
not prevent misery from taking possession of his soul ; and, 
at every stage of his excursion, he could not fail to meet with 
the indications of his Creator's frown. For there appears, 
from reason and experience, as well as from the dictates of re- 
velation, an absolute impossibility of enjoying happiness so 
long as malevolent affections retain their ascendancy in the 
heart of a moral intelligence, in whatever region of universal 
nature his residence may be found. 

Hence we may learn, that the highest attainments in science 
to which any one can arrive, though they may expand the 
range of his intellectual views, will not ensure to their posses- 
sor substantial and unmingled enjoyment, while his heart is 
devoid of benevolent affections, and while he is subjected to 
the influence of degrading and immoral passions. If it be 
possible that any one now exists in the literary world, who 
has devoted his life to the sublimest investigations of sci- 
ence, and has taken the most extensive views of the arrange- 
ments of the material world, and yet, who remains doubtful 
as to the existence of a Supreme Intelligence, and of an eter- 
nal state of destination ; who is elated with pride at the splen- 
dour of his scientific acquirements ; who treats his equals with 
a spirit of arrogance ; who looks down with a haughty and 
sullen scowl on the inferior ranks of his fellow-men ; who is 
haughty, overbearing, and revengeful in his general deport 
ment, and who is altogether indifferent as to the moral princi- 
ples he displays, — I would envy neither his happiness nor his 
intellectual attainments. He can enjoy none of those delight- 
ful emotions which flow from the exercise of Christian bene- 
volence, nor any of those consolations which the good man 
feels amidst the various ills of life ; and, beyond the short span 
of mortal existence, he can look forward to no brighter dis- 
plays of the grandeur of the material and intellectual universe, 
but to an eternal deprivation ot his powers of intelligence in 
the shades of annihilation- 
It must, therefore, be a matter deeply interesting to every 
intelligent agent, to acquire correct notions of the fundamental 
principles of moral action, and to form those habits which will 
fit him foi the enjoyment of true felicity, to whatever region 
of the universe he may afterwards be transported. — In the il- 
lustration of this subject, I shall pursue a train of thought 
2 



14 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION* 



which, I am not aware, has been prosecuted by any previous 
writers on the subject of morality, and shall endeavour to con- 
firm and illustrate the views which may be exhibited, by an 
appeal to the discoveries of revelation. 

We have an abundance of ponderous volumes on the subject 
of moral philosophy; but the different theories which have 
been proposed and discussed, and the metaphysical mode in 
which the subject has generally been treated, have seldom led 
to any beneficial practical results. To attempt to treat the 
subject of morals without a reference to divine revelation, as 
most of our celebrated moral writers have done, seems to b^ 
little short of egregious trifling. It cannot serve the purpose 
of an experiment, to ascertain how far the unassisted faculties 
of man can go in acquiring a knowledge of the foundation and 
the rules of moral action ; for the prominent principles of 
Christian morality are so interwoven into the opinions, inter- 
courses, and practices of modern civilized society, and so fa- 
miliar to the mind of every man who has been educated in a 
Christian land, that it is impossible to eradicate the idea of them 
from the mind, when it attempts to trace the duty of man solely 
on the principles of reason. When the true principles of 
morality are once communicated through the medium of reve- 
lation, reason can demonstrate their utility, and their con- 
formity to the character of God, to the order of the universe, 
and to the relations which subsist among intelligent agents. 
But we are by no means in a situation to determine whether 
they could ever have been discovered by the investigations and 
efforts of the unassisted powers of the human mind. The 
only persons who could fairly try such an experiment were 
the Greeks and Romans, and other civilized nations, in ancient 
times, to whom the light of revelation was not imparted. And 
what was the result of all their researches on this most im- 
portant of all subjects? What were the practical effects of 
all the fine-spun theories and subtle speculations which origi- 
nated in the schools of ancient philosophy, under the tuition 
of Plato and Socrates, of Aristotle and Zeno ? The result is 
recorded in the annals of history, and in the writings of the 
apostles. " They became vain in their imaginations, and 
their foolish hearts were darkened. They were filled with 
all unrighteousness, fornication, wickedness, covetousness., 
maliciousness, envy, murder, deceit, malignity ; they were 
backbiters, haters of God, despiteful, proud, inventors of evil 
things, disobedient to parents, without natural affection, impla- 
cable and unmerciful." Their general conduct was character- 
ised by pride, lasciviousncss, and revenge ; they indulged in 



INTRODUCTION. 



15 



the commission of unnatural crimes ; they were actuated by 
restless ambition, and they gloried in covering the earth with 
devastation and carnage. 

It is true, indeed, that some of the sects of philosophers 
propounded several maxims and moral precepts, the propriety 
of which cannot be questioned ; but none of them could agree 
respecting either the foundation of. virtue, or the ultimate ob- 
ject toward which it should be directed, or that in which the 
chief happiness of man consists ; and hence it happened, that 
the precepts delivered by the teachers of philosophy had little 
influence on their own conduct, and far less on that of the un- 
thinking multitude. Where do we find, in any of the philo- 
sophical schools of Greece and Rome, a recommendation of 
such precepts as these, " Love your enemies ; do good to them 
who hate you ; and pray for them who despitefully use you 
and persecute you ?" In opposition to such divine injunc- 
tions, we can trace, in the maxims and conduct of the ancient 
sages, a principle of pride insinuating itself into the train of 
their most virtuous actions. It has been reckoned by some a 
wise and a witty answer which one of the philosophers return- 
ed to his friend, who had advised him to revenge an injury he 
had suffered ; 44 What, (says he), if an ass kicks me, must I 
needs kick him again ?" Some may be disposed to consider 
such a reply as indicating a manly spirit and true greatness of 
soul ; but it carries in it a proud and supercilious contempt of 
human nature, and a haughtiness of mind which are altogether 
inconsistent with the mild and benevolent precepts of Him who, 
in the midst of his severest sufferings from men, exclaimed 
" Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." 

It appears somewhat preposterous to waste our time, and 
the energies of our minds, in laboured metaphysical disquisi- 
tions, to ascertain the foundations of virtue, and the motives 
from which it is to be pursued ; whether it consists in utility, 
in the fitness of things, or in the regulations of states and po- 
litical associations, and whether it is to be prosecuted from a 
principle of self-love or of benevolence, when every useful 
question that can be started on this subject may be immediately 
solved by a direct application to the revelations of heaven, 
and an infallible rule derived for the direction of our conduct 
in all the circumstances and relations in which we may be 
placed. Even although the moral philosopher were to reject 
the Bible, as a revelation from, God, it would form no reason 
why its annunciations should be altogether overlooked or re- 
jected. As an impartial investigator of the history of man, of 
the moral constitution of the hdman mind, and of the circum* 



16 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF PvELIGION. 



stances of our present condition, he is bound to take into view 
every fact and every cirumstance which may have a bearing 
on the important question which he undertakes to decide. Now, 
it is a, fact, that such a book as the Bible actually exists — that, 
amidst the wreck of thousands of volumes Which the stream of 
time has carried into oblivion, it has survived for severa/ 
thousands of years — that its announcements have directed thr 
opinions and the conduct of myriads of mankind — that man} 
of the most illustrious characters that have adorned our ract 
have submitted to its dictates, and governed their tempers and 
their actions by its moral precepts — that those who have been 
governed by its maxims have been distinguished by upright- 
ness of conduct, and been most earnest and successful in pro- 
moting the happiness of mankind — that this book declares, 
that a moral revulsion has taken place in the constitution of 
man since he w r as placed upon this globe — and that the whole 
train of its moral precepts proceeds on the ground of his being- 
considered as a depraved intelligence. These are facts which 
even the infidel philosopher must admit; and, instead of 
throwing them into the shade, or keeping them entirely out 
of view, he is bound, as an unbiassed inquirer, to take them 
all into account in his researches into the moral economy of 
the human race. In particular, he is bound to inquire into 
the probability of the alleged fact of the depravity of man, and 
to consider, whether the general train of human actions, the 
leading facts of history in reference to all ages and nations, 
and the destructive effects of several operations in the system 
of nature, have not a tendency to corroborate this important 
point. For the fact, that man is a fallen intelligence, must 
materially modify every system of ethics that takes it into ac- 
count. Should this fact be entirely overlooked, and yet ulti- 
mately be found to rest on a solid foundation, then, all the 
speculations and theories of those moralists who profess to be 
guided solely by the dictates of unassisted reason, may prove 
to be nothing more than the reveries of a vain imagination, 
and to be built on " the baseless fabric of a vision." 



CHAPTER JU 



ON THE MORAL RELATIONS OF INTELLIGENT BEINGS TO 
THEIR CREATOR. 



SECTION L 

On the primary or most general idea of Morality. 

I conceive, that the first or most general idea of Morality 
is, Order, — or, that harmonious disposition and arrangement 
of intelligent beings, which is founded on the nature of things, 
and which tends to produce the greatest sum of happiness. 

Physical Order, or the order of the material universe, is 
that by which every part is made to harmonize to the other 
part, and all individually to the whole collectively. Thus, 
the adaptation of light to the eye, and of the eye to light ; the 
adaptation of the structure of the ear, and of the lung ? , to the 
constitution of the atmosphere, and its various undulations ; 
the adaptation of the waters, the vegetable productions of the 
field, the minerals in the bowels of the earth, the colours pro- 
duced by the solar rays, and all the other parts and agencies 
of external nature, to the wants and the happiness of sentient 
Deings ; the adaptation of day and night to the labour and rest 
appointed for man ; and the regularity of the motions of the 
planetary bodies in their circuits round the sun — constitute 
the physical order, or harmony of the visible world ; and it is 
this which constitutes its principal beauty, and which evinces 
the wisdom of its Almighty Author. 

Moral Order is the harmony of intelligent beings in respect 
to one another, and to their Creator, and is founded upon those 
relations in which they respectively stand to each other. — 
Thus, Reverence, Adoration, and Gratitude, from c.eatures, 
correspond or harmonize with the idea of a self-existent, om 
nipotent and benevolent Being, on whom they depend, and from 
whom they derive every enjoyment, — and love, and good-will, 
and a desire to promote each other's happiness, harmonise 
with the idea of intelligences of the same species mingling to- 



18 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



gether in social intercourses. For, it will at once be admitted, 
that affections directly opposite to these, and universally pre- 
valent, would tend to destroy the moral harmony of the intel 
ligent universe, and to introduce anarchy and confusion, and 
consequently misery among all the rational inhabitants of the 
material world. 

The following brief illustration, by way of contrast, may, 
perhaps, have a tendency more particularly to impress the 
mind with the idea of order intended to be conveyed in the 
above stated definitions. 

Suppose the principle which unites the planetary globes in 
one harmonious system, to be dissolved, and the planets to run 
lawlessly through the sky — suppose the planet Jupiter to for- 
sake his orbit, and in his course to the distant regions of space, 
to impinge against the planet Saturn, and to convulse the so- 
lid crust of that globe from its surface to its centre, to disar- 
range the order of its satellites, to shatter its rings into pieces 
and to carry the fragments of them along with him in his law- 
less career, — suppose the sun to attract his nearest planets to 
his surface with a force that would shake them to their centres, 
and dissolve their present constitution,— suppose the moon to 
fly from her orbit, and rush towards the planet Venus, — the 
earth to be divested of its atmosphere, the foundations of its 
mountains to be overturned, and to be hurled into the plains, 
and into the ocean ; its seas and rivers to forsake their ancient 
channels, and to overflow the land, and its human inhabitants 
swept promiscuously along with the inferior animals, into dens 
and caves, and crevices of the earth, and into the bottom of 
the ocean: — in such a scene, we should have presented to our 
view a specimen of physical confusion and disorder ; and it 
would form an impressive emblem of the state of rational be- 
ings, whose moral order is completely subverted. 

Again, suppose the rational inhabitants of our globe to be 
universally set against each other, in order to accomplish their 
misery and destruction — suppose the child rising in opposition 
to his parents, the wife plotting the destruction of her husband, 
the brother ensnaring his sister, and decoying her to ruin. — 
teachers of all descriptions inculcating the arts of deception, of 
revenge, and of destruction, and representing every principle 
and fac as contrary to what it really is — falsehoods of every 
description industriously forged and circulated as facts through 
every rank of society — rulers setting themselves in opposition 
to the populace, and plotting their destruction, while they are 
at th*! same time actuated by a principle of pride, of envy, and 
malice against each other — the populace setting themselves in 



GENERAL IDEA OF MORALITY. 



10 



opposition to their rulers, exterminating them from the earth, 
subverting every principle of law and order, gratifying, with- 
out control, every principle of revenge, avarice, lascivious- 
ness and sensual indulgence, and enjoying a diabolical satis 
faction in contemplating the scenes of misery they have creat 
ed :-— in short, every one beholding in his neighbour the ma 
levolence of a fiend armed with instruments of destruction, 
and devising schemes to secure his misery and ruin. Suppose 
the lower animals, impelled by revenge, to rise up in indigna- 
tion against man, and to swell the horrors of this general 
anarchy — suppose the superior orders of intelligences to min- 
gle in this scene of confusion, to exert their high physical and 
intellectual powers in adding fuel to these malevolent principles 
and operations, and in attempting to drag other intelligences 
of a still higher order from their seats of bliss— suppose all 
these intelligences actuated by an implacable hatred of their 
Creator, combined to deface the beauties of the material crea- 
tion, and then to engage in a war of universal extermination 
throughout the whole intelligent system in every region of 
the universe : such a state of things, if it could exist in the 
universe, would form a perfect contrast to moral order ; it 
Would present a scene in which existence could not be desira- 
ole to any intelligent mind, and in which happiness could not 
possibly be enjoyed by any rational being, but by Him who is 
eternally happy independently of his creatures. Moral order 
then, is completely opposed to such a state of things as has 
now been represented ; it consists in every being holding its 
proper station in the universe, acting according to the nature 
of that station, and using its powers and faculties for the 
purposes for which they were originally intended ; and the 
l^rand object intended to be accomplished by this order, is, the 
happiness of the whole, — without which misery Would reign 
uncontrolled throughout all the ranks of intelligent existence. 

This state of the moral world is most frequently designated 
in Scripture by the term holiness. Of the ideas included un- 
der this term, and several of its kindred epithets, very vague 
and imperfect conceptions are frequently entertained. Its 
leading or generic idea, from what has been now stated, will 
evidently appear to be, a conformity to order, founded on the 
relations of intelligent beings to each other ; or, in other words, 
it consists in a complete conformity to the law of God. (which 
is founded on those relations) including both the action and 
the principle from which it flows. In reference to created be- 
ings, holiness, may, therefore, be defined to be a conformity 
to the moral order of the universe^— and, in relation to the 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 



Creator, it is, that perfection of his nature, which leads him 
to promote the moral order and happiness of intelligent beings, 
and to counteract every thing which stands in opposition to 
this object. 

That the leading ideas and definitions now stated are cor- 
rect, will, perhaps, more distinctly appear in the course of the 
following discussions and illustrations; but should anyone be 
disposed to call in question the statements now given in refer- 
ence to the primary idea of morality, his difference of opinion 
on this point will not materially affect the leading train of sen- 
timent prosecuted in the further elucidation of this subject. 



SECTION II. 

On the Fundamental Principles of Morality. 

The leading idea of morality or holiness, as now stated, 
resolves itself into the two following principles — love to God 
the Creator, and love to fellow intelligences. These are the two 
grand springs on w 7 hich the whole moral machine of the uni- 
verse depends. All the diversified actions by which happiness 
is diffused among intelligent agents, are only so many ramifica- 
tions of these two simple and sublime principles, which con- 
nect all holy beings throughout the wide empire of God, in 
one harmonious union. This we are not left to infer merely 
from the nature of things, but have the authority of the su- 
preme Legislator, as our warrant for placing these principles 
as the foundation of all moral virtue among every class of mo- 
ral agents. For thus saith our Saviour " Thou shalt love 
the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all 

THY MIND, AND WITH ALL THY STRENGTH. This is the fir St 

and great commandment. And the second is like unto it : 
Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these 
two commandments hang all the la>n and the prophets." 

These principles, now that they are communicated, and 
sanctioned by divine authority, appear quite accordant to the 
dictates of enlightened reason, and calculated to promote the 
happiness of the intelligent creation ; yet we never find that 
the moral systems of pagan philosophers, in any country, were 
built on this foundation, or that they assumed them as indispen- 
sable axioms to guide them in their speculations on the subject 
of ethics. 



LOVE TO GOD. 



21 



In elucidating this topic, I shall endeavour to show the rea- 
sonableness and the utility of these principles of moral action, 
from a consideration of the nature of God, and the relations in 
which intelligent beings stand to him as the source of their ex- 
istence and felicity — from the nature of subordinate intelligen- 
ces, and the relations in which they stand to one another — 
from the misery which must inevitably follow, where such prin- 
ciples are violated or reversed — from the happiness that would 
necessarily flow from their full operation — and, lastly, that they 
apply to the circumstances of all created intelligences wherever 
existing, throughout the boundless universe. — I have used the 
plural term principles, to express the foundation of moral ac- 
tion, because our Saviour has arranged them under two dis- 
tinct heads, in the passage just now quoted ; but strictly speak- 
ing, there is but one principle, namely, Love, which dividea 
itself, as it were, into two great streams, one directing it?; 
course towards the supreme Source of all felicity, and the 
other towards all the subordinate intelligences He has created. 

First Principle- — Love to God. 

Love, considered in reference to the Supreme Being, maybe 
viewed as dividing itself into a variety of streams or kindred 
emotions, all flowing from one source. The most prominent 
of these emotions are the following — Admiration, which con- 
sists in a delightful emotion, arising from a contemplation of 
the wonderful works of God, and of the wisdom and goodness 
which they unfold — Reverence, which is nearly allied to admi- 
ration, is a solemn emotion, mingled with awe and delight, 
excited in the mind, when it contemplates the perfections, and 
the grand operations of the Eternal Mind — Gratitude, which 
consists in affection to the Supreme Being, on account of the 
various benefits he has conferred upon us — Humility, which 
consists in a just sense of our own character and condition, es- 
pecially when we compare ourselves with the purity and per- 
fection of the Divine character. To these emotions may be 
added Complacency and delight in the character and operations 
of God — Adoration of his excellencies, and an unlimited De- 
pendence upon him in reference to onr present concerns, and 
to our future destination. I have stated these different modi- 
fications of the first principle of morality, because, in the fol- 
lowing illustrations, they may all occasionally be taken into 
account, when an allusion is made to the affections, which the 
character and opeiations of the divine Being have a tendency 
to excite. 



22 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



Love is that noble affection which is excited by aimiable ob- 
jects ; and therefore, in order to its being rational, permanent, 
and delightful, it must be founded on the perception of certain 
amiable qualities or attributes connected with its object. In 
order to demonstrate the reasonableness of this affection in 
reference to God, it is only requisite to consider his character 
and perfections, and the relation in which he stands to us as 
the Author of our existence and enjoyments, But, as a com- 
prehensive view of this subject would require volumes for its 
illustration, I shall confine myself to the illustration of only 
two or three lineaments of the Divine character. 



SECTION III. 

On the Omnipotence of God. 

We naturally venerate and admire a character in which 
physical energy is combined with high intellectual powers, 
when these powers are uniformly exerted in the counteraction 
of vice and misery, and in the promotion of happiness. On 
this ground, the Omnipotence of God is calculated to effect the 
mind with that particular modification of love, which is desig- 
nated by the term Reverence. Were it possible that any human 
being could construct a machine, by means of which, in com- 
bination with his own physical powers, he could transport him 
self and his treasures, from one region of the globe to another, 
at the rate of 200 miles in an hour, and were he, at the same 
time, to devote his treasures, and his moral and intellectual 
energies to the improvement and melioration of the various 
tribes of mankind in every clime, through which he passed, 
such an obje ct could not fail of exciting in our minds a senti- 
ment of admiration and reverence. Were one of the highest 
orders of created intelligences to descend from his celestial 
mansion, and to display himself to our view in all the bright 
radiance of his native heaven — were he to take his station over 
the regions of Thibet or Hindostan, and, after having excited 
the attention of a wondering populace, were he to detach the 
huge masses of the Himalaya mountains from their founda- 
tions, and toss them into the depths of the Indian Ocean, and, 
in the course of a few hours, transform the barren wastes of 
that dreary region into a scene of beauty and luxuriant vegeta- 
tion, and cause splendid cities to arise, where formerly nothing 



OMNIPOTENCE OF GOD* 



23 



was presented to the view but a bleak and frightful wilderness 
— at such a display of physical power, combined with benevo- 
lent design, we could not withhold a feeling of awe, and a sen- 
timent of reverence, almost approaching to religious adoration. 

If, then, the contemplation of physical and mental energies, 
with which even created beings may possibly be invested, 
would excite our admiration and reverence, what powerful 
emotions of this description must the energies of the Uncreated 
Mind be calculated to produce, when they are contemplated by 
the eye of enlightened reason, and in the light of Divine Re- 
velation ! When this huge globe on which we dwell existed 
in the state of a shapeless and unformed mass ; when land, 
and water, and air, were blended in wild confusion, and Chaos 
and Darkness extended their dominion over all its gloomy re- 
gions, at His command " light sprung out of darkness, and 
order out of confusion the mountains reared their projecting 
summits, the valleys were depressed, the caverns of the ocean 
were hollowed out, and the waters retired to the places which 
He had appointed for them. The fields were clothed with 
luxuriant verdure; Eden appeared in all its beauty; the infe- 
rior tribes of animated existence took possession of the air, the 
waters, and the earth, and man was formed in the image of 
his Maker, to complete this wondrous scene. At this period, 
too, the earth received such a powerful impulse from the hand 
of its Creator, as has carried it along through the voids of 
space, with all its furniture and inhabitants, in the most rapid 
career, for six thousand years ; having already moved through 
a space of 3,480,000,000,000 miles, and will still continue its 
unremitting course for thousands of years to come, till the 
" mystery of Providence be finished." 

Would we be struck with admiration and astonishment, at 
beholding a superior created intelligence tossing a mountain 
into the sea ? What strong emotions of reverence and awe, 
then, ought to pervade our minds, when we behold the Al- 
mighty every moment producing effects infinitely more pow- 
erful and astonishing ! What would be our astonishment, were 
we to behold, from a distance, a globe as large as the earth 
tossed from the hand of Omnipotence, and flying at the rate 
of a thousand miles every minute ! Yet this is nothing more 
than what is every day produced by the unceasing energies 
of that Power which first called us into existence. That im- 
pulse which was first given to the earth at its creation is still 
continued, by which it is carried round every day from west to 
east, along with its vast population, and at the same time im- 
pelled forward through the regions of space at the rate of sixty- 



24 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



eight thousand miles in an hour. Nor is this among the most 
wonderful effects of divine power: it is only one comparatively 
small specimen of that omnipotent energy which resides in the 
Eternal Mind. When we lift our eyes towards the sky, we 
behold bodies a thousand times larger than this world of ours, 
impelled with similar velocities through the mighty expanse 
of the universe. We behold the planetary globes wheeling 
their rapid courses around the sun, with unremitting velocity — 
the comets returning from their long excursions in the distant 
regions of space, and flying towards the centre of our system 
with a velocity of hundreds of thousands of miles an hour — 
the sun himself impelled towards some distant region of space, 
and carrying along with him all his attendant planets — and, in 
a word, we have the strongest reason to conclude, that all the 
vast systems of the universe, which are more numerous than 
language can express, are in rapid and incessant motion around 
the throne of the Eternal, carrying forward the grand designs 
of infinite wisdom which they were destined to accomplish.* 
It must, however, be admitted, that the manifestation of 
power, or great physical energy, abstractly considered, is not 
of itself calculated to produce that emotion of reverence whicn 
flows from love, unless the being in whom it resides exerts it 
for the purposes of benevolence. A superior being, endowed 
with great physical and intellectual energies, which were 
exerted solely for the purpose of destruction, could inspire no 
feelings but those of dread and alarm ; and were- it possible 
to conceive an Omnipotent being divested of the attribute of 
benevolence, or possessed of a capricious character, he would 
form the most terrible object which the human mind could 
contemplate. But the attribute of infinite power, when con- 
joined with infinite wisdom and goodness, conveys an idea the 
most glorious and transporting. Every display of divine power 
to which I have now alluded, has the communication of hap- 
piness for its object. The motion of the earth around its axis 
every twenty-four hours, is intended to distribute light and 
darkness, in regular proportions, to all the inhabitants of the 
earth, and to correspond to the labour and rest appointed for 
man. It produces a variety which is highly gratifying to the 
rational mind ; for, while our fellow-men on the opposite side 
of the globe are enjoying the splendours of the noonday sum 
the shades of night, which at that time envelope our hemis- 
phere, are the means of disclosing to our view the magnificent 

* See a more comprehensive illustration of this subject in u The Chris 
ban Philosopher," 3d edition, pp. 43-88. 



OMNIPOTENCE OF GOD* 



25 



glories of the starry frame. Were this motion to cease, this 
world and all its inhabitants would be thrown into a state of 
confusion and misery. While the inhabitants of one hemis- 
phere enjoyed the splendours of perpetual day, the glories of 
the nocturnal heavens would be for ever veiled from their 
view, and the inhabitants of the other hemisphere would be 
enveloped in the shades of eternal night. While the one class 
was suffering under the scorching effects of excessive heat, the 
other would be frozen to death amidst the rigours of insuffer- 
able cold — vegetable nature, in both cases, would languish, and 
the animal tribes would be gradually extinguished. 

The same benevolent intention may be perceived in that ex- 
ertion of power by which the earth is carried forward in its 
annual course around the sun. From this motion we derive 
all the pleasures we enjoy from the vicissitude of the seasons; 
without which the variety of nature that appears in the beau- 
ties of spring, the luxuriance of summer, the fruits of autumn, 
and the repose of winter, would be completely destroyed. 
And, it is worthy of notice, that all this variety is enjoyed 
every moment by some one tribe or other of the human family; 
for while it is summer in one region, it is winter in another ; 
and while one class of our fellow-men is contemplating the 
opening beauties of spring, another is gathering in the fruits 
of harvest. The same benevolent designs, we have every 
reason to believe, are displayed in those more magnificent ex- 
ertions of divine power which appear among all the rolling 
worlds on high ; for, in so far as our observations extend, all 
the arrangements of the planetary globes appear calculated to 
promote the happiness of sentient and intellectual beings. 

While, therefore, we contemplate the operations of divine 
power, either in the earth or in the heavens, we perceive every 
thing which is calculated to inspire us with love, admiration, 
and reverence. When we He down on our pillows in the 
evening, how pleasing it is to reflect, that the power of our 
Almighty Father will be exerted in^earrying us round in safety 
several thousands of miles, during our repose in sleep, in order 
that our eyes may be again cheered with the morning light? 
When, amidst the gloom and storms of winter, we look for- 
ward to the reviving scenes of spring, we know that we must 
be carried forward more than a hundred millions of milest 
before we can enjoy the pleasures of that delightful season; 
and when spring arrives, we must be carried through the voids 
of space a hundred millions of miles farther, before we can 
reap the fruits of summer and harvest. How delightful, then, 
is the thought, that the omnipotent energy of our heavenly 

3 



26 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



Father is incessantly exerted in producing such a wonderful 
eflect, accompanied by such a variety of beneficent changes f 
all contributing to our enjoyment!* 

What is the reason, then, why we feel so little admiration 
and reverence at the beneficent operations of divine power? 
If we should be struck with veneration and wonder at behold- 
ing a superior created intelligence tossing a range of moun- 
tains into the sea, why do we behold, with so much apathy, 
effects ten thousand times more energetic and astonishing? 
One general reason, among others, undoubtedly is, that the 
moral constitution of man has suffered a melancholy derange- 
ment ; in consequence of which, the train of his thoughts and 
affections has been turned out of its original channel. The 
Scriptures are clear and explicit on this point; they declare, 
in the most positive terms, that 44 the carnal mind is enmity 
against God" and that, in consequence of this depraved prin- 
ciple, the wicked "walk in the vanity of their minds, being 
alienated from the life of God. They say to the Almighty, 
Depart from us, for we desire not the knowledge of thy ways. 
God is not in all their thoughts, and through the pride of their 
countenances they will not cali upon God." — A i: other reason 
is, that the Almighty agent who produces so stupendous effect? 
remains invisibly to mortal eyes. Were a celestial intelligence 
to appear in a splendid and definite form, and to produce such 
effects as I have supposed, the connexion between ti e agent 
and the effects produced, would forcibly strike the senses and 
the imagination. But, he who sits on the throne of the uni- 
verse, and conducts all its movements, is a Being " who dwells 
in light unapproachable, whom no man hath seen, or am see." 
He can be contemplated only through the sensible manifesta- 
tions he gives of his perfections ; and, were the train of our 
thoughts properly directed, we would perceive l.im operating 
in every object and in every movement. We would hear his 
voice in the wind and the thunder, in the earthquake, the storm, 
and the tempest; we would see him in the beauties and sub- 
limities of sublunary nature, in the splendours of the sun, and 
the glories of the noctural sky ; and, in whatever situation 

* In this, and other places of this work, the truth of the annual an£ 
diurnal motions of the earth is taken for granted, because I conceive it it 
itusceptible of the clearest demonstration — (See "Christ. Philosopher,' 
3d edit. pp. 67, 63, 280. 281, 514.) But, should the truth of this position 
be called in question or denied, it will not materially affect the propriety 
of such moral reflections as are here stated ; for. in this case, a similar, oi 
•ven a much greater display of omnipotence must be admitted in refe 
fence to the motions of the heavenly bodies, in bringing about tht we 
#*Mion of day and night, and the changes of the seasons. 



OMNIPOTENCE OF GOD. 



27 



we might be placed, we would feel ourselves surrounded with 
the omnipotent energies of an ever-present Deity. 

The contemplation of God as an omnipotent being, is cal- 
culated to inspire the mind with love and confidence in the 
prospect of futurity. The promises addressed to us by a wise 
and benevolent being can excite in us trust and dependance, 
only in so far as we are convinced of his ability to secure thei 
fulfilment. If almighty power were not an attribute of the 
Eternal Mind, or were we unable to trace its operations in 
visible existing facts, then all the promises and delineations 
of revelation, in reference to unseen and eternal objects, might 
prove to be nothing more than imaginary scenes, that could 
never be realized. But the good man, who perceives omni- 
potent energy in incessant operation throughout all the scenes 
of the universe which surround him, feels the most perfect 
security in looking forward to the scene of his future destina 
tion, and to those changes and revolutions which shall suc- 
ceed the period of his present existence. He knows that, in a 
few years at most, that immortal principle which now ani- 
mates his frame, will take its flight from its earthly mansion 
to a world unknown. To what regions it will direct its 
course ; what scenes and prospects will be unfolded to its 
view; what intercourse it may have with the spirits of de- 
parted men, or with other intelligences ; in what state it shall 
pass its existence till the consummation of the present plan 
of Providence — whether it shall remain as a naked spirit en- 
tirely disconnected with the visible universe, or be clothed 
with some ethereal vehicle, to enable it to hold a correspond- 
ence with other regions of the material creation — he is at pre- 
sent unable to determine. He knows that his body, too, shall 
disappear from the living world, and be reduced to corruption 
and ashes. In what manner the essential particles of this body 
shall be preserved distinct from those of all other human bo- 
dies, after they have been tossed about by the winds, and 
blended with the other elements of nature ; by what means 
they shall be re-united into a more glorious form; and how 
the separate spirit shall be enabled to recognize its renovated 
and long-lost partner at the resurrection of the just — he can 
form no conception. 

He knows, that the globe on which he now resides is doom- 
ed to be dissolved amidst devouring flames, when 44 the ele- 
ments shall melt with fervent heat, and the earth, and the 
works that are therein, shall be burnt up" — that the ashes of 
all the myriads of the race of Adam shall issue from the 
caverns of the ocean, and from the charnel houses, in every 



28 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



region of the land — that they shall be moulded into new or- 
ganical structures, united with their kindred spirits, and be 
convened in one grand assembly before God, the Judge of 
all. He knows, that " new heavens and a new earth" will be 
arranged for the residence of the 44 redeemed from among 
men but in what region of the universe this abode may be 
prepared, what scenes it will unfold, and by what means the 
innumerable company of the righteous shall be transported 
from amidst the ruins of this globe to that celestial habita- 
tion — he is at present at a loss to form even a conjecture. He 
knows, that after these solemn changes have been effected, 
ages numerous as the drops of the ocean will roll over him — 
that worlds numerous as the stars of heaven will still run their 
destined rounds — that other systems may undergo important 
changes and revolutions — that new systems of creation may 
be gradually emerging into existence, and that scenes of mag- 
nificence and glory, different from all that ever preceded them, 
may incessently rise to view, throughout the lapse of unceas- 
ing duration. But, in the prospect of all these solemn and 
important events, he beholds — in that Almighty energy which 
vi heels our globe around from day to day, and impels it in its 
annual course, and which directs, at the same time, the move- 
ments of all the hosts of heaven — the exertion of a benevolent 
power, which is calculated to inspire him with love and confi- 
dence, and which is able to secure his happiness amidst the 
revolutions of worlds, and amidst all the scenes through which 
he may pass during an immortal existence. Under this im 
pression, he can adopt the affectionate and triumphant lan- 
guage of the Psalmist — " whom have I in heaven but thee, and 
<here is none upon earth that I desire besides thee ! My 
heart and my flesh shall fail, but God is the strength of my 
heart, and my portion fcr ever." 

Thus it appears, that the omnipotence of God is one of those 
attributes of his nature which is particularly calculated to fill 
the mind with sentiments of love and confidence, admiration 
and reverence. And, if such emotions be at all excited in the 
mind, they must rise to the highest pilch of elevation to which 
we can carry them ; for there is no other object or being that 
possesses the same perfection, or can claim the same degree 
of affection and love. If we love God at all, it must be " with 
all our heart, with all our understanding, and with all our 
strength." — The considerations to which I have now adverted, 
have been too seldom taken into view in moral and religious 
discussions on this topic. The omnipotence of the Deity is 
seldom exhibited as a ground and an excitement of veneration 



9 



WISDOM AND GOODNESS OF GOD. 



29 



and love, and yet it stands, as it were, on the fore-front of the 
divine character, giving beauty and efficiency to all his other 
perfections : without which wisdom, benevolence, faithfulness, 
mercy, and patience, would degenerate into empty names, and 
form no solid foundation for the exercise of confidence and 
hope. And, therefore, it is the duty of every Christian to en- 
deavour, by every proper means, to enlarge his conceptions 
of the operations of omnipotence, and to familiarize his mind 
to contemplations, of the magnitude, motions, grandeur, and 
immensity of God's works, in order that his love to God may 
be elevated and expanded, and his faith and hope strengthened 
and invigorated. To this attribute of Jehovah the inspired 
writers uniformly direct our views, as a source of joy and 
confidence. " Praise ye the Lord, — praise him, ye servants 
of the Lord; for I know that Jehovah is Great, and that our 
Lord is above all God's. Whatever the Lord pleased that did 
he, in heaven, and in earth, in the seas, and all deep places. — 
Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised ; his greatness is 
unsearchable. I will speak of the glorious honour of thy ma- 
jesty, and of thy wondrous works. I will speak of the might 
of thy terrible acts, arid will declare thy greatness ; to make 
known to the sons of men thy mighty operations, and the glo- 
rious majesty of thy kingdom. Happy is he who hath the 
God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his God, 
who made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, 
who keepeth truth for ever," 

SECTION IV. 

On the Wisdom and Goodness of God. 

Another feature in the divine character, which is calculate 
ed to excite our most ardent affection, is, the Wisdom and 
Goodness of God. These two attributes may be considered 
under one head, since they are always inseparable in their ope 
ration. Goodnes* proposes the end, namely, the happiness of 
the sensitive and intelligent creation ; and Wisdom selects 
the most proper means for its accomplishment. 

Wherever genius appears combined with benevolent inten- 
tions and beneficent operations, we cannot withhold a certain 
portion of affection and regard. 

When we behold a man like Howard, devoting his weaUh 
3* 



30 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION, 



his knowledge, his intellectual and active powers, to alleviate 
the sorrows, and to promote the happiness of his fellow-men 
—when we behold him in retirement at his native mansion, a 
universal blessing to his neighbours around him, furnishing 
employment for the poor, erecting schools for the instruction 
of their children, watching over the morals of his neighbour- 
hood, visiting the abodes of affliction, acting the part of a phy- 
sician to their bodies, imparting spiriiual instruction to their 
souls, promoting the knowledge and practice of religion, and 
extending his benevolent regards to persons of all religious 
persuasions — when we behold him leaving his native country 
and the friends of his youth, on a tour of benevolence over all 
Europe and the East; hazarding his health and his life in the 
service of humanity, diving into the depths of dungeons, 
plunging into the infected atmospheres of hospitals and jails- 
visiting the lonely and squalid prisoner, entering the wretch- 
ed hovels of sorrow and affliction, administering consolation 
and relief, and surveying the dimensions of misery and dis- 
tress among men of all nations, for the purpose of devising 
schemes for the relief of the distresses of suffering humanity* 
and for promoting the comforts of mankind— when such a 
character appears on the stage of life, there is no class of the 
human race, whose powers are not completely vitiated, but 
must feel towards it strong emotions of esteem and affection 
ate regard. 

But what are all the wise and beneficent designs of a fellow 
mortal, when compared with the numerous and diversified 
streams of benevolence which are incessantly flowing from 
the uncreated source of felicity ! They are but as a drop to 
the ocean, or as an atom when compared with the immensity 
of the universe. On him all beings depend, from the archan- 
gel to the worm ; from Him they derive their comforts ; to 
Him they are indebted for all their powers and faculties; and 
on him their eternal felicity depends. Were we to prosecute 
this subject to any extent, it would lead us into a field on which 
volumes might be written, and yet the greater part of the dis- 
plays of divine beneficence would remain unrecorded. I shall 
therefore confine myself to the selection of only a few instan- 
ces of the wisdom and goodness of God. 

Wherever we turn our eyes in the world around us, we be- 
hold innumerable instances of our Creator's beneficence. In 
order that the eye and the imagination may be gratified and 
charmed, he has spread over the surface of our terrestrial ha- 
bitation an assemblage of the richest colours, which beautify 
and adorn the landscape of the earth, and present to our view 



WISDOM AND GOODNESS OF GOD. 



31 



a picturesque and diversified scenery, which is highly gratify- 
ing to the principle of novelty implanted in the human mind. 
On all sides we behold a rich variety of beauty and magnifi- 
cence. Here, spread the wide plains and fertile fields, adorned 
with fruits and verdure; there, the hills rise in gentle slopes, 
and the mountains rear their snowy tops to the clouds, distil- 
ling from their sides the brooks and rivers, which enliven and 
fertilize the plains through which they flow. Here, the lake 
stretches into a smooth expanse in the bosom of the moun- 
tains ; there, the rivers meander through the forests and the 
flowery fields, diversifying the rural scene, and distributing 
health and fertility in their train. Here, we behold the rugged 
cliffs and the stately port of the forest ; there, we are charmed 
with the verdure of the meadow, the enamel of flowers, the 
azure of the sky, and the gay colouring of the morning and 
evening clouds. In order that this scene of beauty and mag- 
nificence might be rendered visible, He formed the element of 
light, without which the expanse of the universe would be a 
boundless desert, and its beauties forever veiled from our 
sight. It opens to our view the mountains, the hills, the vales, 
the woods, the lawns, the flocks and herds, the wonders of the 
mighty deep, and the radiant orbs of heaven. It paints a thou- 
sand different hues on the objects around us, and promotes a 
cheerful and extensive intercourse among all the inhabitants 
of the globe. 

Again, in order to gratify the sense of hearing, He formed 
the atmosphere, and endowed it with an undulating quality, 
that it might waft to our ears the pleasures of sound, and all 
the charms of music. The murmuring of the brooks, the 
whispers of the gentle breeze, the soothing sound of the rivu- 
let, the noise of the waterfall, the hum of bees, the buzz of 
insects, the chirping of birds, the soft notes of the nightingale, 
and the melody of thousands of the feathered songsters, which 
fill the groves with their warblings, produce a pleasing variety 
of delightful emotions; — the numerous modulations of the 
human voice, the articulate sounds peculiar to the human spe- 
cies, by which the interchanges of thought and affection are 
promoted, the soft notes of the piano forte, the solemn sounds 
of the organ — and even the roaring of the stormy ocean, the 
dashings of the mighty cataract, and the rolling thunders which 
elevate the soul to sentiments of sublimity and awe — are all 
productive of a mingled variety of pleasures ; and demonstrate 
that the distribution of happiness is one grand end of tht 
operations of our bountiful Creator, 



32 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



To gratify the sense of smelling, he has perfumed the air 
with a variety of delicious odours, which are incessantly ex- 
haled from a thousand plants and liowers. Countless millions 
of these odoriferous particles, which elude the penetrating 
power of the finest microscope to discover, are continually 
wafted about by the air, and floating around us, impervious to 
the sight, the hearing, and the touch, but calculated to convey 
pleasure to the soul, through the medium of the olfactory 
nerves, and to enable us to 44 banquet on the invisible dainties 
of nature." 

To gratify the sense of feeling, he has connected pleasure 
with the contact of almost every thing we have occasion to 
touch, and has rendered it subservient for warning us of what- 
ever may be disagreeable or dangerous. Had a malevolent 
Being constructed the body of man, and formed the arrange- 
ments of external nature, he might have rendered the contact 
of every object of touch as acutely painful as when we clasp a 
prickly shrub, or thrust our fingers against the point of a 
needle. 

To gratify the sense of taste, and to nourish our bodies, he 
has furnished us with a rich variety of aliments, distributed 
not with a niggardly and a sparing hand, but with a luxuriant 
profusion, suited to the tastes of every sentient being, and to 
the circumstances of the inhabitants of every clime. He has 
not confined his bounty merely to the relief of our necessities 
by confining us to the use of a few tasteless herbs and roots, 
but has covered the surface of the earth with an admirable 
profusion of plants, herbs, grains, and delicious fruits of a 
thousand different qualities and tastes, which contribute to the 
sensitive enjoyment and comfort of man. In almost every 
region of the earth, corn is to be found, in the valleys sur- 
rounded by the snowy mountains of the North, as well as in 
the verdant plains of the Torrid Zone. In warm regions, 
cool and delicious fruits are provided for the refreshment of 
the inhabitants, and the trees are covered with luxuriant fo- 
liage to screen them from the intensity of the solar heat !* 

* The manner in which the Creator has contrived a supply for the thirst 
of man, in sultry places, is worthy of admiration. — He has placed amidst 
the burning sands of Africa, a plant whose leaf twisted round like a 
cruet, is always filled with a large glass full of fresh water: the gullet of 
this cruet is shut by the extremity of the leaf itself so as to prevent tho 
water from evaporating. He has planted in some other districts of the 
tame country, a great tree, called by the negroes Boa, the trunk of which 
of a prodigious bulk, is naturally hollowed like a cistern. In the rainy' 
teaion, it receives its fill of water, which continues fresh and cool in tht 



WISDOM AND GOODNESS OF COD. 



33 



Every season presents us with a variety of fruits peculiar to 
itself, distributed by the munificent hand of the *• Giver of all 
good." The month of June presents us with cabbages, cau- 
liflowers, and cherries; July, with gooseberries, raspberries, 
peaches, and apricots ; August and September scatter before 
us, in luxuriant abundance, plums, figs, apples, pears, turnips, 
carrots, cresses, potatoes, and, above all, wheat,* oats, rye, and 
barley, which constitute the 44 staff' of bread" for the support 
of man and beast ; and although we are indebted chiefly to 
summer and autumn for these rich presents, yet, by the assist- 
ance of human art, we can preserve and enjoy the greater 
part during winter and spring. The soil which produces these 
dainties has never yet lost its fertility, though it has brought 
forth the harvests of six thousand years, but still repays our 
labour with its annual treasures ; — and, were selfish man ani- 
mated with the same liberal and generous views as his muni- 
ficent Creator, every individual of the human family would be 
plentifully supplied with a share of these rich and delicious 
bounties of nature. 

In fine, the happiness of man appears to be the object of 
the divine care, every returning season, every moment, by day 
and by night. By day, He cheers us with the enlivening beams 
of the sun, which unfolds to us the beauty and the verdure of 
the fields; and lest the constant efflux of his light and heat 
should enfeeble our bodies, and wither the tender herbs, he 
commands the clouds to interpose as so many magnificent 
screens, to ward off the intensity of the solar rays. When the 
earth is drained of its moisture, and parched with heat, he 
bids the clouds condense their watery treasures, and fly from 
other regions on the wings of the wind, to pour their waters 
upon the fields, not in overwhelming and destructive torrents, 
but in small drops and gentle showers, to refresh the thirsty 
soil, and revive the vegetable tribes. He has spread under 
our feet a carpet of lovely green, richer than all the produc- 
tions of the Persian loom, and has thrown around our habita- 
tion an a/ure canopy, which directs our view to the distant re- 
gions of infinite space. — By night, he draws a veil of darkness 
over the mountains and the plains, that we may be enabled to 
penetrate to the regions of distant worlds, and behold the 

greatest heats by means of the tufted foliage which crowns its summit. 
In some of the parched, rocky islands in the West Indies, there is found 
a tree called the water lienne, so full of sap, that if you cut a single branch 
of it, as much water is immediately discharged as a man can drink 
*t a draught, and it is perfectly pure and limpid. See Pierre\s "Studies 
V Nature." 



34 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION* 



moon walking in brightness, the aspects of the planetary globes, 
the long trains of comets, and the innumerable host of stars. 
At this season, too, all nature is still, that we may enjoy in 
quiet the refreshments of sleep, to invigorate our mental and 
corporeal powers. " As a mother stills every little noise, that 
her infant be not disturbed ; as she draws the curtains around 
its bed, and shuts out the light from its tender eyes; so God 
draws the curtains of darkness around us, so he makes all 
things to be hushed and still, that his large family may sleep 
in peace/' — In a word, if we look around us to the forests 
which cover the mountains, or if we look downwards to the 
quarries and mines in the bowels of the earth, we behold abun- 
dance of materials for constructing our habitations, for embel- 
lishing the abodes of civilized life, and for carrying forward 
improvements in the arts and sciences. And, if we consider 
the surrounding atmosphere, we shal! find it to contain the 
principle of life, and the element of fire, by means of which 
our winter evenings are cheered and illuminated in the absence 
of the sun. — Contemplating all these benign agencies as flow- 
ing from the care and benevolence of our Almighty Parent, 
the pioiH mind may adopt the beautiful language of the poet, 
though in a sense somewhat different from what he intended : 

"For me kind Nature wakes her genial power, 

Suckles each herb, and spreads out every flower ; 

Annual for me, the grape, the rose, renew 

The juice nectareous, and the balmy dew; 

For me the mine a thousand treasures brings ; 

For me health gushes from a thousand springs ; 

Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me, rise ; 

My footstool earth, my canopy the skies." Pope. 

Viewing the various scenes and harmonies of nature, in re- 
lation to man, and to the gratification of his different senses, 
we may also say, in the language of Akenside, in his poem 
" On the Pleasures of Imagination," that 

" Not a hreeze 

Flies o'er the meadow, not a cloud imbibes 
The setting sun's effulgence; not a strain 
From all the tenants of the warbling shade 
Ascends, but whence his bosom can j artake 

Fresh pleasure and delight. 

The rolling wavos, the sun's unwearied course, 
The elements and seasons, all declare 
For what the Eternal Maker has ordaiivd 
The powers of man : we feel within ourselves 
His energy divine : He tells the heart 



WISDOM AND GOODNESS OF GOD. 



36 



He meant, He made us to behold and love 
What He beholds and loves, the general orb 
Of life and being : to be great like Him, 
Beneficent and active." 

Let us now consider, for a few moments, the Wisdom which 
t» displayed in the harmonious adjustment of the organs of 
sense to the scenes of external nature. All the scenes of 
beauty, grandeur, and benignity, which surround us, in the 
earth and heavens, would remain as one mighty blank, unpro 
ductive of enjoyment, unless our bodies were 44 fearfully and 
wonderfully" framed, and endowed with organs fitted for ena 
bling us to hold a correspondence with the material world. 
Ten thousands of vessels, tubes, b;>nes, muscles, ligaments, 
membranes, motions, contrivances, and adaptations, beyond 
the reach of the human understanding fully to investigate or 
to comprehend, must be arranged, and act in harmonious con- 
cert, before any one sense belonging to man can perceive and 
enjoy its objects. 

Before the eye can behold a landscape, and be charmed with 
its beauties, it was requisite that three humours should be 
formed, of different sizes, different densities, and different re- 
fractive powers — three coats, or delicate membranes, with some 
parts opaque, and some transparent, some black, and some 
white, some of them formed of radial, and some with circular 
fibres, composed of threads finer than those of the spider's 
web. The crystalline humour required to be composed of two 
thousand very thin spherical lamina, or scales, lying one upon 
another, every one of these scales made up of one single fibre, 
or finest thread, wound in a most stupendous manner, this 
way, and that way, so as to run several courses, and to meet 
in as many centres. This curious and delicate piece of orga- 
nization required to be compressed into the size of a ball of 
only half an inch in diameter, and a socket composed of a num- 
ber of small bones, to be hollowed out and exactly fitted for 
its reception. A bed of loose fat for this ball to rest upon, a 
lid or curtain to secure it from danger, a variety of muscles to 
enable it to move upwards and downwards, to the right and to 
the left, and a numerous assemblage of minute veins, arteries, 
nerves, lymphatics, glands, and other delicate pieces of animal 
machinery, of which we have no distinct conception, were still 
requisite to complete this admirable organ. Even in this state 
it would be of no use for the purpose of vision, unless it were 
connected with the brain by the optic nerve, through the me- 
dium of which the impressions of visible objects are conveyed 
to the soul. Still, in addition to all these contrivances, a won- 



36 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



derful machinery requires to be in action, and an admirable 
effect produced, before a landscape can be contemplated. Ten 
thousand millions of rays, compounded of a thousand different 
shades of colour, must fly off in every direction from the 
objects which compose the surrounding scene, and be com- 
pressed into the space of one-eighth of an inch, in order to 
enter the eye, and must paint every object in its true colour, 
form, and proportion, on a space not exceeding half an inch in 
diameter. Were any one of the parts which compose this com- 
plicated machine, either wanting or deranged ; were it changed 
into a different form, or placed in a different position; were 
even a single muscle to lose its capacity of acting, we might be 
for ever deprived of all the enchanting prospects of the earth 
and heavens, and enveloped in the darkness of eternal night. 
Such is the skill and intelligence requisite for accomplishing, 
even in a single organ, the purposes of Divine benevolence. 

Again, before we could enjoy the harmony of sounds, the 
charms of music, and the pleasures of conversation, an instru- 
ment no less wonderful than the eye required to be construct- 
ed. In the ear, which is the organ of hearing, it was requisite, 
that there should be an outward porch for collecting the vibra- 
tions of the air, constructed, not of fleshy substances, which 
might fall down upon the orifice, or absorb the sounds, nor of 
solid bones, which would occasion pain and inconvenience 
when we repose ourselves — but composed of a cartilaginous 
substance, covered with a smooth membrane, endowed with 
elasticity, and bent into a variety of circular folds, or hollows, 
for the reflection of sound. It was farther requisite, that there 
should be a tube, or passage, composed partly of cartilage, 
and partly of bone, lined with a skin or membrane, and mois- 
tened with a glutinous matter, to form a communication with 
the internal machinery of this organ, where the principal won- 
ders of hearing are performed. This machinery consists, 
first, of the tympartuw, or drum of the ear, which consists of 
a dry, thin, and round membrane, stretched upon a bony ring, 
so as actually to resemble the instrument we cail a drum. 
Under this membrane is a small nerve, or string, stretched 
tight, for the purpose of stretching or relaxing the drum, and 
increasing or diminishing its vibrations, so as to render it ca- 
pable of reflecting every possible tone. Behind it is a cavity, 
hewn out of the temporal bone, the hardest (me in the body, 
in which there seems to be an echo, by which the sound is re- 
flected with the utmost precision. This cavity contains four 
very small, but remarkable bones, denominated the hammer % 
the anvil, the orbicular bone, and the stirrup, all connected 



WISDOM AND GOODNESS OF GOD. 



37 



together, and necessary for contributing to the extension and 
vibration of the tympanum. In this cavity are also formed 
various windings or cavities filled with air ; and, in order that 
the air may be renewed, there is an opening which communi- 
cates with the back part of the mouth, called the Eustachian 
tube. 

The next apparatus belonging to this curious machine, is 
the Labyrinth, which is composed of three parts, the vestibule 
or porch, three semicircular canals, and the cochlea. This 
last is a canal, which takes a spiral course, like the shell of a 
snail, and is divided by a very thin lamina, or septum of cords, 
which keeps decreasing from the base to the top. The air 
acting on either side of these diminutive cords, produces a mo- 
tion, nearly in the same manner as the sound of one musical 
instrument excites a tremulous motion in the cords of another. 
All these tubes, and winding canals, may be considered as so 
many sounding galleries, for augmenting the smallest tre- 
mours, and conveying their impressions to the auditory nerves, 
which conduct them to the brain. Besides the several parts 
now mentioned, a number of arteries, veins, lymphatics, glands, 
and a variety of other contrivances, which the human mind 
can neither trace nor comprehend, are connected with the 
mechanism of this admirable organ. 

All this curious and complicated apparatus, howevor, would 
have been of no avail for the purpose of hearing, had not the 
atmosphere been formed, and its particles endowed with a tre- 
mulous motion. But, this medium being prepared, a sounding 
body communicates an undulatory motion to the air, as a 
stone thrown into a pond produces circular waves in the water ; 
the air, thus put in motion, shakes the drum of the ear ; the 
tremours, thus excited, produce vibrations in the air within 
the drum ; this air shakes the handle of the hammer ; the ham- 
mer strikes the anvil, with which it is articulated ; the anvil 
transmits the motion to the stirrup, to which its longer leg is 
fastened ; the stirrup transmits the motion it has received, to 
the nerves ; and the nerves, vibrating like the strings of a 
violin, or lyre, and the motion being still further augmented in 
the Labyrinth, — the soul, in a manner altogether incompre- 
hensible to us, receives an impression proportioned to the 
weakness or intensity of the vibration produced by the sound- 
ing body. Such is the exquisite and complicated machinery 
which required to be constructed, and preserved in action 
every moment, before we could enjoy the benefits of sound, 
and the pleasures of articulate conversation. 

4 



38 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



Again, before we could enjoy the pleasures of feeling, an 
extensive system of organization required to be arranged. A 
system of nerves, originating in the brain and spinal marrow, 
and distributed, in numberless minute ramifications, through 
the heart, lungs, bowels, blood-vessels, hands, feet, and every 
other part of the body, was requisite to be interwoven through 
the whole constitution of the animal frame, before this sense, 
which is the foundation of all the other sensations, and the 
source of so many pleasures, could be produced. Wherever 
there are nerves, there are also sensations ; and wherever any 
particular part of the body requires to exert a peculiar feeling, 
there the nerves are arranged and distributed in a peculiar 
manner, to produce the intended effect. And how nicely is 
every thing arranged and attempered, in this respect, to con- 
tribute to our comfort ! If the points of the fingers require to 
be endowed with a more delicate sensation than several other 
parts, they are furnished with a corresponding number of 
nervous ramifications ; if the heel require to be more cal- 
lous, the nerves are more sparingly distributed. If feel- 
ing were equally distributed over the whole body, and as 
acutely sensible as in the membranes of the eye, our very 
clothes would become galling and insupportable, and we should 
be exposed to continual pain ; and if every part were as in- 
sensible as "the callous of the heel, the body would be benumb- 
ed, the pleasures we derive from this sense would be destroy- 
ed, and the other organs of sensation could not perform their 
functions in the manner in which they now operate. So that 
in this, as well as in all the other sensitive organs, infinite 
Wisdom is admirably displayed in executing the designs of 
Benevolence. 

In order that we might derive enjoyment from the various 
aliments and delicious fruits which the earth produces, a pe- 
culiar organization, different from all the other senses, was re- 
quisite to be devised. Before we could relish the peculiar fla- 
vour of the pear, the apple, the peach, the plumb, or the grape, 
the tongue, the principal organ of taste, required to be formed, 
and its surface covered with an infinite number of nervous pa- 
pilla, curiously divaricated over its surface, to receive and 
convey to the soul the impressions of every flavour. These 
nerves required to be guarded with a firm and proper tegu- 
ment or covering, to defend them from danger, and enable 
them to perform their functions so long as life continues ; and 
at the same time, to be perforated in such a manner, with a 
multitude of pores, in the papillary eminences, as to give a 
free admission to every variety of taste. It was likewise ne- 



WISDOM AND GOODNESS OF GOD. 



cessary, that these papillary nerves should be distributed in 
the greatest number, in those parts of the organ to which the 
objects of taste are most frequently applied ; and hence we 
find, that they are more numerous on the upper than on the 
lower parts of the tongue ; and, therefore, when we apply 
highly-flavoured substances to the under part, we are not so 
sensible of the taste, till we remove them to the upper surface. 
A variety of veins, arteries, glands, tendons, and other parts 
with which we are unacquainted, are also connected with this 
useful organ. When we consider how frequently these deli- 
cate organs are used, during a length of years, it is matter of 
admiration how well they wear. While our clothes wear out 
in the course of a year or two, while the hairs of our heads 
turn grey, and are nipt asunder at the roots, and while age 
shrivels the most beautiful skin, these delicate nervous papillae 
last longer than instruments of iron or steel ; for the sense of 
taste is generally the last that decays. For the bestowment 
of this sense, therefore, and the pleasures it conveys, we have 
abundant reason to admire and adore the Wisdom and Good- 
ness of our Almighty Creator. 

Finally, that we might be regaled with the scent of flowers, 
and the aromatic perfumes of spring and summer, and that 
none of the pleasures of nature might be lost, the organ of 
smelling was constructed to catch the invisible odoriferous 
effluvia which are continually wafted through the air. For 
this purpose it was requisite that bones, nerves, muscles, ar- 
teries, veins, cartilages, and membranes, peculiarly adapted 
to produce this effect, should be arranged, and placed in a 
certain part of the body. As the bones of the head are too 
hard for this purpose, the nerves of smelling required to have 
a bone of a peculiar texture, of a spongy nature, full of little 
holes, like a sieve, through which they might transmit their 
slender threads or branches to the papillous membrane which 
lines the cavities of the bone and the top of the nostrils. The 
nostrils required to be cartilaginous and not fleshy, in order 
to be kept open, and to be furnished with appropriate muscles 
to dilate or contract them as the occasion might require. It 
was likewise requisite, that they should be wide at the bottom, 
to collect a large quantity of effluvia, and narrow at the top 
where the olfactory nerves are condensed, that the effluvia 
might act with the greatest vigour, and convey the sensation 
to the brain. By means of these and numerous other contri- 
vances, connected with this organ, we are enabled to distin- 
guish the qualities of our food, and to regale ourselves on those 
invisible effluvia which are incessantly flying off from the ve- 



40 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



getable tribes, and wafted in every direction through the at- 
mosphere. 

Of all the senses with which we are furnished, the sense of 
smelling is that which we are apt to consider as of the least 
importance ; and some have even been ready to imagine rhat 
our enjoyments would scarcely have been diminished, although 
its organs had never existed. But, it is presumptuous in man 
to hazard such an opinion in reference to any of the beneficent 
designs of the Creator. We know not what relation the minu- 
test operations, within us or around us, may bear to the whole 
economy of nature, or what disastrous effects might be pro- 
duced, were a single pin of the machinery of our bodies broken 
or destroyed. The exhalations which are, at this moment, 
rising from a putrid marsh in the centre of New Holland, and 
hovering in an invisible form, over that desolate region, may 
be forming those identical clouds which, the next month, shall 
water our fields and gardens, and draw forth from the flowers 
their aromatic perfumes. The sense of smelling may be es- 
sentially requisite to the perfection of several of the other 
senses ; as we know that the sense of feeling is inseparably 
connected with the senses of seeing, hearing, and tasting. — 
Let us consider, for a moment, some of the agencies which re* 
quire to be exerted when this sense is exercised and gratified. 
Before we could derive pleasure from the fragrance of a flower, 
it was requisite that a system of the finest tubes, filaments, 
and membranes should be organized, endowed with powers of 
absorption and perspiration, furnished with hundreds of vessels 
for conveying the sap through all its parts, and perforated 
with thousands of pores to give passage to myriads of odori- 
ferous particles, secreted from the internal juices. It was also 
requisite that the atmosphere should be formed, for the pur- 
pose of affording nourishment to the plant, and for conveying 
its odoriferous effluvia to the olfactory nerves. The rains, the 
dews, the principle of heat, the revolution of the seasons, the 
succession of day and night, the principle of evaporation, the 
agitation of the air by winds, and the solar light, — all combine 
their influence and their agencies in producing the grateful 
sensation we feel from the smell of a rose. So that the sense 
of smelling is not only connected with the agency of all the 
terrestrial elements around us, but bears a relation to the vast 
globe of the sun himself ; for an energy exerted at the distance 
of ninety-five millions of miles, and a motion of 200,000 miles, 
every second, in the particles of light, are necessary to its ex- 
istence ; and consequently, it forms one of the subordinate 
ends for which that luminary was created : — and, being related 



WISDOM AND GOODNESS OP GOD. 



41 



to the sun, it may bear a certain relation to similar agencies 
which that central globe is producing among the inhabitants 
of surrounding worlds. 

Thus it appears, that the various senses of man, as well as 
the external objects which contribute to their gratification, are 
the results of Infinite Wisdom and Goodness, and calculated 
to promote the happiness of sensitive and intelligent beings. 

But, before any one of these senses could perform its func- 
tions, it required to be united with a most wonderful system 
of organization. The heart required to be endowed with an 
immense degree of muscular power, and to be set in action in 
the centre of this complicated system— hundreds of arteries 
required to be bored, and ramified, and arranged, to convey 
the blood to its remotest extremities* and hundreds of veins 
to bring it back again to its reservoir — thousands of lacteal 
and lymphatic tubes to absorb nutriment from the food, and 
convey it to the circulating fluid — thousands of glands to se- 
crete humours that are noxious or redundant from the mass 
of blood, and emunctories to throw them off from the system 
— hundreds of muscles for moving the different members of 
the body, and for conveying the whole corporeal frame from 
place to place — hundreds of fine cords infinitely ramified over 
the whole body, to convey sensation to all its parts, and thou- 
sands of millions of perforations to be made in the skin, 
through which the insensible perspiration might continually 
flow. To support this fine and delicate system of vessels, 
hundreds of bones of diversified forms, and different sizes, and 
connected together by various modes of articulation, required 
io be constructed and arranged, and nicely adapted to their 
peculiar functions; and hundreds of tendons and ligaments, 
to connect these bones with the muscles, and with every other 
part of the animal frame. This machine required to be pre* 
served in constant action, whether we be sleeping or waking, 
sitting or standing, in motion or at rest.. The heart required 
io give ninety-six thousand strokes every twenty-four hoursi, 
to send off streams of the vital fluid through hundreds of tubes, 
and to impel the whole mass of blood through every part of 
the body every four minutes. The lungs required to be in 
constant play, expanding and contracting their thousand vesi- 
cles, at least twenty times every minute, to imbibe the oxygen 
of the atmosphere, and to transmit its enlivening influence to 
the circulating fluids- — the stomach to be dissolving the food, 
and preparing it for the nourishment of the body — the liver 
and kidneys to be drawing off their secretions— the lacteal* 
to. be extracting nutritious particles, to be conveyed, by the- 



42 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



absorbent vessels, into the mass of the blood — and the perspi 
ration, which might otherwise clog the wheels of the whole 
machine, to be thrown off incessantly through millions 01 
pores. All this curious and delicate machinery, constructed 
of the most flabby suostances, required to be put in motion, 
and to be preserved in action every moment, before we could 
contemplate the beauties of a landscape, be delighted with the 
sounds of music, or inhale the fragrance of a rose. 

It is worthy of notice, that, in the construction and arrange- 
ment of these numerous and complicated parts and functions, 
there is, not a single instance, that any physiologist can pro- 
duce, in which pain is the object of the contrivance. Of all 
the thousands of adaptations which Infinite Wisdom has con- 
trived, there is not one but what has for its object, the com- 
munication of pleasure to the sentient being in which it is 
found. — If a number of small ^muscles are connected with the 
eye, it is for the purpose of rendering that organ susceptible 
of a quick and easy motion in every direction, to meet every 
exigence. If the arteries are furnished with numerous valves, 
opening only in one direction, it is intended to prevent the 
blood from returning by a wrong course, and endangering the 
whole structure of the animal machine. If a joint is formed 
to move only in one direction, as the joints of the fingers, it 
is intended to prevent those inconveniences which would ine- 
vitably have been felt, had it been capable of moving in every 
direction. If another kind of joint is constructed so as to 
move in every direction, it is intended to enable us to perform, 
with facility, those movements and operations which would 
otherwise have been either impossible, or have been attended 
with the greatest inconvenience and pain. There are certain 
parts connected with the human frame, whose precise use can- 
not be accurately determined, but this is owing to our limited 
knowledge of the various functions which are requisite to be 
performed in this complicated machine. In no instance what- 
ever can it be shown, that the infliction of pain is the object 
of any one part or function of whose use we are uncertain ; — 
and it is conformable to the dictates of the soundest reason io 
conclude, that, since every part, whose use we can ascertain, 
is adapted to communicate pleasure, every other part, through- 
out every branch of the animal system, is calculated to pro- 
duce a similar effect. 

It is true, indeed, that pain is frequently felt in the different 
members which compose our corporeal system; but this is 
not owing to its original construction, but to the derangement 
which its parts receive, either from internal disease or from 



WISDOM AND GOODNESS OF GOD. 43 

external violence : and such consequences are the effects, ei 
ther of the folly of man, in exposing his body to danger or in 
using its members for improper purposes, — or of the physical 
changes which have happened in the system of nature since 
man was created, — or of those depraved and immoral passions 
which so frequently agitate and convulse his corporeal frame, 
Let us now endeavour, if we can, to sum up a few of the 
blessings which we enjoy from these wise arrangements of 
our Beneficent Creator. In our bodies there are reckoned 
245 bones, each of them having forty distinct scopes or inten- 
tions, and 446 muscles for the purpose of motion, each having 
at least ten several intentions. All these are ready every mo- 
ment to perform their functions ; and every breath we draw, 
whether we be in motion or at rest, asleep or awake, a hun- 
dred muscles at least are in constant action. In the act of 
breathing, we respire at least twenty times every minute ; the 
heart exerts its muscular force in propelling the blood into the 
arteries sixty times every minute; the stomach and abdominal 
muscles are every moment in action, and the curious little 
bones of the ear are ever ready to convey sensations of the 
softest whisper to the brain. So that, without an hyperbole, 
or the least extravagance of expression, it may truly and lite- 
rally be said, that we enjoy a thousand blessings every minute, 
and, consequently, sixty thousand every hour, and one million 
four hundred and forty thousand every day. For, if any one 
of these numerous functions were to stop, or to be interrupted, 
pain, and even tleath itself might be induced. Let us ask the 
man who is gasping for breath, under an incurable asthma, or 
him who is smarting under the pain of a tootha-che, or him 
who has wounded a nerve, an artery, or a vein, or him who 
has dislocated his shoulder-blade, if he would not consider it 
as a peculiar blessing to have the functions of nature restored 
to their original action? And if one member out of joint, or 
one function out of order, produces so much pain and uneasi- 
ness, how grateful ought we to feel for the thousands of bless- 
ings we enjoy every moment, while the wheels of the animal 
machine are moving on with smoothness and harmony ! If 
we consider the number of years during which these blessings 
have been continued, — if we consider the mercies received in 
childhood, which have been long overlooked or forgotten, — 
if we count the many nights which we have passed in sound 
repose, and the many days we have enjoyed without bodily 
ain, — if we reflect on the numerous objects of sublimity and 
eauty with which our eyes have been delighted, the nume- 
rous sounds which have charmed our ears and cheered our 



44 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGIOK. 



hearts, and the numerous gratifications which our other senses 
have received ; if we consider how often food has been pro- 
vided and administered for the nourishment of our bodies, and 
from how many visible and invisible dangers we have been 
delivered — and, if we view all these countless blessings as pro- 
ceeding every moment from Him, 44 whose hands have made 
and fashioned us," and who 44 breathed into our nostrils the 
breath of life," can we forbear to recognise our Almighty Be- 
nefactor as worthy of our supreme affection and our most 
lively gratitude ? 

" For me, when I forget the darling theme, — 
Be my tongue mute, may fancy paint no more, 
And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat." 

ijnder an impression of the diversified agencies of Divine Wis- 
dom which are incessantly contributing to our enjoyment, and 
of the vast profusion of our Creator's beneficence which we 
behold around us, and experience every passing hour, can we 
forbear exclaiming with the enraptured Poet:— • 

" When all thy mercies, O my God I 

My rising soul surveys, 
Transported with the view, I'm lost 

In wonder, love, and praise. 
Through every period of my life 

Thy goodness 1*11 proclaim ; 
And, after death, in distant worlds,. 

Renew the glorious theme. 
Through all eternity to Thee 

A joyful song I'll raise ; 
For, oh ! eternity's too short 

To utter all thy praise." 

(f, then, the construction of our bodies, and the terrestrial 
scene in which we are placed, present so many striking dis- 
plays of Wisdom and Benevolence, what an astonishing and 
transporting scene of Divine Benignity would burst upon the 
view, were we permitted to explore those more extensive pro- 
vinces of the empire of Omnipotence, where physical and 
moral evil have never shed their baleful influence to interrupt 
the happiness of intellectual natures! Could we soar beyond 
the regions of the planetary system ; could we penetrate into 
that immensity of worlds and beings which are scattered in 
magnificent profusion through the boundless fields of ether ; 
could we draw aside the veil which now conceals the grandeur 
and beauty of their physical economy and arrangements v 
ould we behold their inhabitants arrayed in robes of beauty* 



WISDOM AND GOODNESS OF GOD. 



45 



with extatic joy beaming from their countenances, basking 
perpetually in the regions of bliss, united to one another by 
indissoluble bands of love and affection, without the least ap- 
prehension of evil, or of an interruption to their enjoyments ; 
and looking forward with confidence to an interminable suc- 
cession of delighted existence ; could we retrace the history 
of their Creator's dispensations towards them since the first 
moment of their existence, and the peculiar displays of divine 
glory and Benignity, that may occasionally be exhibited to 
their view, — it is more than probable, that all the displays of 
Wisdom and Benevolence which we now behold, numerous as 
they are, would be thrown completely into the shade, and that 
this world would appear only as a Lazar-house, when com- 
pared with the bright and transporting scenes of the celestial 
worlds, This we are infallibly led to conclude, in regard to a 
certain class of intelligences in the future state, by the ex- 
press declarations of Scripture. For thus it is written, "Eye 
hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the 
heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them 
that love him." And if renovated men shall experience such 
superior enjoyments in the eternal world, there can be no 
doubt that all those intelligences, in every region, who have 
retained their primitive integrity, are at this moment in the 
possession of similar transporting enjoyments. It must, there- 
fore, have an additional tendency to elevate our affections to 
the Supreme Intelligence, when we view Him not only com- 
municating happiness to the various tribes of beings which 
people our globe, but also distributing streams of felicity in 
boundless profusion, among the inhabitants of unnumbered 
worlds. 

I shall now conclude my illustrations of this topic, by exhi- 
biting a few instances of the Wisdom and Goodness of God as 
delineated in the Sacred Scriptures. 

Si The Lord is good to all, and his tender mercies are over 
all his works. He stretched forth the heavens, and laid the 
foundation of the earth, and formeth the spirit of man within 
hiin. He planted the ear, and formed the eye; and he 
breathed into our nostrils the breath of life. In his hand is 
the soul of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind. 
With him is wisdom and strength, and his understanding is 
infinite. He is wonderful in counsel, and excellent in work- 
ing. He hath established the world by his wisdom, and 
stretched out the heavens by his understanding. O the depth 
of the riches both of the wisdom iind the knowledge of God ! 
how unsearchable are his operations, and his ways past find' 



46 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



ing out ! He causeth the vapours to ascend from the ends of 
the earth ; he bindeth up the waters in his thick clouds, and 
the cloud is not rent under them. He hath compassed the 
waters with bounds, until the day and night come to an end. 
He visiteth the earth andwatereth it; he greatly enricheth it 
with rivers ; he prepareth corn for its inhabitants ; ne water- 
eth the ridges thereof abundantly; he settleth the furrows 
thereof; he maketh it soft with showers; he blesseth the 
springing thereof ; he crowneth the year with his goodness, 
and his paths drop fatness. The pastures are clothed with 
flocks ; the valleys are covered over with corn, and the little 
hills are encircled with joy.* 

" He sendeth the springs into the valleys which run among 
the hills ; they give drink to every beast of the field. Beside 
these springs the fowls of heaven have their habitation, which 
sing among the branches. He causeth the grass to grow for 
the cattle, and herb for the service of man ; and wine that 
maketh glad the heart of man, and oil that maketh his face to 
shine, and bread that strengthened his heart. He planted 
the tall trees and the cedars of Lebanon, where the birds 
make their nests, and the storks their dwellings. The high 
hills are a refuge for the wild goats, and the rocks for the 
conies. He appointed the moon for seasons, and the sun to 
enlighten the world ; he makes darkness a curtain for the 
night, till the sun arise, when man goeth forth to his work 
and to his labour till the evening. How manifold are thy 
works, O Lord ! In wisdom hast thou made them all ; the 
earth is full of thy riches; so is the great and wide sea wherein 
are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts, 
t hese all wait upon thee, that thou mayest give them their 
meat in due season. Thou givest them — they gather ; thou 
openest thine hand — they are filled with good. Thou hidest 
thy face — they are troubled ; thou sendest forth thy Spirit — 
they are created ; and thou renevvest the face of the earth. 
The glory of the Lord shall endure for ever; Jehovah shall 
rejoice in all his works. He is Lord of heaven and earth ; he 
giveth to all, life, and breath, and all things ; he hath made of 
one blood all nations of men, to dwell on all tne face of the 
earth ; and hath determined the times before appointed, and 
the bounds of their habitation. For in him we live, and move, 
and have our being. I will sing unto Jehovah as long as I 

* Tn this, and several other quotations from the Scriptures, the literal 
rendering from the Hebrew is substituted in place of the common trans- 
lation, and the supplements are frequently omitted. 



WISDOM AND GOODNESS OF GOD. 



4/ 



live ; I will sing praises to my God, while I have my being ; 
I will utter abundantly the memory of his great goodness, and 
speak of all his wondrous works." 

The inspired writers rise to still higher strains when they 
celebrate the Divine Goodness in reference to our eternal sal- 
vation. 

" Praise ye Jehovah, for Jehovah is good ; he remembered 
us in our low estate for his mercy endureth for ever. I will 
praise thee. O Lord, my God, with all my heart, and I will glo- 
rify thy name for evermore ; for great is thy mercy toward 
me, and thou hast delivered my soul from the lowest hell. — 
God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, 
that whosoever believeth on him should not perish but have 
everlasting life. He sent an angel from the celestial glory to 
announce his birth; and a multitude of the heavenly host to 
proclaim, Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth, and 
good will to men. He spared not his own Son but delivered 
him up for us all — and shall he not with him also freely give 
us all things ? Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord 
Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings 
in heavenly things in Christ ; in whom we have redemption 
through his biood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the 
riches of his grace.— Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that 
is within me bless his holy name ; who forgive th all thine ini- 
quities, who healeth all thy diseases ; who redeemeth thy 
life from destruction, and crowneth thee with loving kindness 
and tender mercies. As the heaven is high above the earth, 
so great is his mercy toward them that fear him. The mercy 
of Jehovah is from everlasting to everlasting, upon them that 
fear him ; and his righteousness unto children's children. — 
Many, O Lord, my God, are thy wonderful works, which thou 
hast done, and thy thoughts to us-ward, they cannot be reck- 
oned up in order unto thee ; if I would declare and speak of 
them, they are more than can be numbered. — I will praise 
thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made : marvellous 
are thy works. How precious are thy thoughts (or designs) 
towards me, O God ! how great is the sum of them ! If I 
should count them, they are more in number than the sand." 

Thus it appears, that both the system of Nature, and the 
system of revelation, concur in exhibiting the Wisdom and 
benevolence of the Deity as calculated to excite the higher 
degree of ardent affection in the minds of the whole intelli 
gent creation. If an atom of gratitude is due to an earthly 
benefactor, it is impossible to set bounds to that affection and 
gratitude which ought incessantly to rise in our hearts to 



48 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RfcUGlOfc. 



wards the Creator of the universe, who is the *• Father of mer- 
cies, and the God of all consolation." And, therefore, we 
need not wonder, that " holy men of old," whose minds were 
overpowered with this sacred emotion, broke out into language 
which would be deemed extravagant, by the frigid moralists 
of the present age. Under a sense of the unbounded love and 
goodness of God, the Psalmist felt his heart elated, and formed 
these pious resolutions : '* Seven times a day will I praise 
thee, O Lord ! At midnight will I rise to give thanks to thee, 
because of thy righteous precepts, I will rejoice in the way of 
thy precepts, as much as in all riches. The law of thy mouth 
is better unto me than thousands of gold and silver. O, how 
love I thy law! it is my meditation all the day. I will speak 
of thy testimonies before kings, and will not be ashamed of 
thy commandments. Whom have I in heaven but thee ? and 
there is none upon earth that I desire, besides thee. As the 
hart panteth after the brooks of water, so panteth my soul 
after thee, O God !" Under similar emotions, the Apostle 
Paul exclaims, " I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, 
nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, 
nor things to come, shall be able to separate us from the love 
of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." 



SECTION V. 

On the Mercy and Patience of God. 

Another feature in the divine character, which is peculiarly 
t Jculated to excite admiration, affection, and gratitude, is the 
Mercy and Patience of God. 

Mercy has its sours-e in the Divine Goodness, and may be 
considered as a particular modification of the Benevolence of 
the Deity. Goodness is the genus, Mercy the species. The 
Goodness of God extends to all the creatures he has formed, 
of whatever description or character, — to the fowls of the air, 
the fishes of the sea, the microscopic animalcula, and the most 
wicked class of human beings, as well as to angels, archangels, 
and other superior intelligences. Mercy can have a reference 
only to those who have sinned against their Maker, and ren- 
dered themselves unworthy of his favours. It consists in the 
bestowment of blessings upon those who have forfeited every 
claim to them, and have rendered themselves obnoxious to 



MERCY AND FORBEARANCE OF GOD. 



49 



punishment. It cannot be exercised toward "the angels who 
have kept their first estate," or towards any other class of holy 
intelligences, because they do not stand in need of its exercise. 
— The Patience or Forbearance of God, is that attribute of 
his nature which consists in his bearing long with sinners, and 
refraining from inflicting deserved punishment, notwithstand- 
ing their impenitence, and long-continued provocations. 

These attributes are seldom displayed, in our world, by one 
man, or class of men, towards another. Instead of clemency, 
mercy, and forbearance, we find in the character of mankind, 
as delineated in the page of history, the principle of revenge 
operating more powerfully than almost any other disposition ; 
and, therefore, when any striking instance of mercy and long 
suffering is exhibited in human conduct, we are disposed tc 
wonder at it, and to admire it as an extraordinary moral pheno- 
menon. When we behold a personage who is possessed of 
every degree of moral and physical power for crushing his ene- 
mies — yet remaining calm and tranquil, and forbearing to 
execute deserved punishment, notwithstanding repeated insults 
and injuries, we are led to admire such qualities, as indicating 
a certain degree of greatness and benevolence of mind. On 
this principle, we admire the forbearance of David, the anoint- 
ed king of Israel, towards Saul, his bitterest enemy, when he 
had an opportunity of slaying him at the cave of En-gedi; and 
afterwards, when he was sleeping in a trench at Hachila ;— 
and at the clemency which he exercised towards Shimei, who 
had cursed and insulted him, and treated him most reproach- 
fully. On the same principle, we admire the conduct of Sir 
Walter Raleigh, a man of known courage and honour, towards 
a certain rash, hot-headed youth. Being very injuriously 
treated by this impertinent mortal, who next proceeded to 
challenge him, and, on his refusal, spit on him, and that too 
in public; — the knight, taking out his handkerchief, with great 
calmness, made him only this reply: "Young man, if I could 
as easily wipe your blood from my conscience, as I can this 
injury from my face, I would this moment take away your life." 

In order to exhibit the Mercy and Long-suffering of the 
Deity in their true light, let us consider, for a moment, some 
of the leading features in the conduct and the character of 
mankind. — Whether we go back to the remote ages of anti- 
quity, or review the present moral state of the inhabitants of 
our globe, we shall find the following, among many other 
similar traits, in the character of the great mass of this world's 
population: — An utter for getfulness of God, and the prevalence 
of abominable idolatries. Though an invisible and Omnipo- 



50 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



tent energy may be clearly perceived in that majestic ma 
chinery by which the vault of heaven appears to be whirled 
round our globe from day to day ; and though every returning 
season proclaims the exuberant Goodness of that Being who 
arranged our terrestrial habitation, — yet, of the great majority 
of human beings that have hitherto existed, or now exist, it 
may with truth be said, that tc God is not in all their thoughts, 
and the fear of God is not before their eyes." And how gro- 
velling have been the conceptions of those who have professed 
to offer their adorations to a superior Intelligence ! They have 
changed the glory of the incorruptible God, into an image 
made like to corruptible man, and have invested with the at- 
tributes of Divinity, a block of marble, the stock of a tree, a 
stupid ox, and a crawling reptile; to. which they have paid 
that worship and homage which were due to the Almighty 
Maker of heaven and earth. — Blasphemy and Impiety is ano- 
ther characteristic of the majority of our species. How many 
have there been of our wretched race in all ages, and how 
many are there in the present age, who " set their mouths 
against the heavens in their blasphemous talk," and "dare de- 
fy the Omnipotent to arms!" They say to God, " Depart 
from us, for we desire not the knowledge of thy ways : What 
is the Almighty, that we should serve him? and what profit 
should we have, if we pray unto him?" While his hand is 
making their pulse to beat, and their lungs to play, and while 
he is distributing to them corn, and wine, and fruits, in rich 
abundance, they are blaspheming his venerable Majesty, and 
prostituting these very blessings for the purpose of pouring 
dishonour on his name. 

The diabolical passions which men have displayed towards 
one another, is another striking trait in their character. War 
has been their employment and their delight in every age. 
Thousands of rational beings of the same species have set 
themselves in array against thousands, and have levelled at 
each other spears, and arrows, and darts, and musquetry, and 
cannon, and every other instrument of destruction, till legs, 
and arms, and skulls, and brains, were mingled with the dust 
— till the earth was drenched with human gore — till cities, 
and towns, and villages, were tumbled into ruins, or given up 
as a prey to the devouring flames — and till the bounties of 
Providence, which God had provided for man and beast, were 
destroyed, and trampled down as the mire of the streets. And, 
what adds to the enormity of such dreadful passions, they 
have often had the effrontery to implore the assistance of the 
God of raercy in this work of horror and destruction. When, 



MERCY AND FORBEARANCE OF GOD. 



51 



to all these abominable dispositions and practices, we add, the 
numerous other acts of atrocity, that are daily committed in 
every quarter of the world, — the oppression and injustice 
which the poor, the widow, and the fatherless have suffered 
from the overwhelming hand of Power; the persecutions 
which Tyranny has inflicted on the select few, who have raised 
their voices against such abominations; the falsehood, and 
treachery, and perjury, which are rampant in every land; the 
lewd and unnatural crimes that are daily committed ; the thefts, 
and murders, and assassinations, that are incessantly perpe- 
trating in some one region of the world or another.* the haugh- 
ty pride and arrogance which so many of the puny sons of 
men assume ; the murmurings and complainings at the dispen- 
sations of Providence, and the base ingratitude with which the 
majority of mankind receive the bounties of Heaven; — and 
when we consider, for how many thousands of years these 
abominable dispositions have been displayed, we have reason 
to wonder that condign punishment is not speedily executed, 
and that the Almighty does not interpose his Omnipotence, to 
shatter this globe to atoms, and to bury its inhabitants in the 
gulf of everlasting oblivion. 

Yet, notwithstanding these depraved and ungrateful dispo- 
sitions; notwithstanding that this spacious world, which was 
erected for a temple to the Deity, has been turned into a tem- 
ple of idols, its seas and rivers stained, and its fields drenched 
with the blood of millions of human beings, and its cities 
transformed into a sink of moral pollution; in spite of all 
these innumerable and aggravated provocations, the God of 
heaven still exercises his Mercy, Long-suffering and Forbear- 
ance. He impels the earth in its annual and diurnal course, 
to bring about the interchanges of day and night, and the vi- 
cissitudes of the seasons; he makes his sun to arise on the 
world, to cheer the nations with his light and heat; he sends 
his rains, to refresh the fields, both of "the just, and of the 
unjust;" he causes the trees, the herbs, and the flowers, to 
bud and blossom every returning spring ; he ripens the fields 
in harvest; he crowns the year with his bounty, and encircles 
the little hills with rejoicing. Instead of "sending forth his 
mighty winds," in incessant storms and hurricanes, to tear up 
whole forests by their roots, and to lay waste the productions 
of the soil, he fans the groves and the lawns with gentle 
breezes, and odoriferous gales. Instead of opening the cata- 
racts of heaven, and dashing down overwhelming torrents, to 
deluge the plains, and frustrate the hopes of man, he refreshes 
the parched ground with gentle showers, as if they proceeded 



52 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



from a watering-pot. Instea-d of confining our sensitive enjoy- 
ments to bread and water, as if we were the tenarits of a jail, 
he has strewed our gardens and fields with every variety of 
luxuriant delicacies, to gratify every appetite. Instead of di- 
recting the lightnings to set on fire the mountains, and to level 
our cities to the ground, and the thunders to roll incessantly 
around us, he commands this terrific meteor to visit us only at 
distant intervals, and in its gentler operations, just to remind 
us what tremendous instruments of destruction he is capable 
of wielding, and that we ought to "be still and know that He 
is God," and that " he has punished us less than our iniquities 
deserve." O that man would praise the Lord for his Mercy, 
and for his Long-suffering towards the children of men! 

This character of God is peculiar to himself, and cannot be 
supposed to belong, unless in a very inferior degree, to any 
created intelligence. Were the meekest man that ever ap- 
peared on the theatre of our world — or were even one of the 
highest intelligences in heaven to be invested with a portion of 
the attribute of omniscience ; could he penetrate, at one glance, 
over all that hemisphere of our globe on which the sun shines, 
and, at the next glance, survey the other hemisphere which is 
enveloped in darkness; could his eye pierce into the secret 
chambers of every habitation of human beings, in every city, 
and town, and village, and especially into those haunts where 
crimes are veiled by the shades of night from every human 
eye ; could he behold at one glance all the abominations that 
are hourly perpetrating in every region of the world — the Pa- 
gan worshippers in Thibet and Hindostan, performing their 
cruel and execrable rites — the wheels of Juggernaut crushing 
to death its wretched devotees — the human victims which are 
tortured and sacrificed, to gratify the ferocity of some barbar- 
ous chief — the savage hordes of New Zealand, feasting on the 
.flesh of their fellow-men, -whom they have cruelly butchered, 
and drinking their blood out of human skulls — the Indians of 
America, tearing with pincers the flesh of their prisoners, and 
enjoying a diabolical pleasure in beholding their torments — 
the haughty Inquisitors of Spain insulting their devoted vic- 
tims, in the name of the merciful Saviour, and preparing tor- 
tures, and stakes, and flames for their destruction — the assassin 
plunging his dagger into his neighbour's bosom — the mid- 
night robber entering into the abode of honest industry, strang- 
ling its inmates, and carrying off their treasures — the kidnap- 
per tearing the poor African from his wife and children, and 
native land — the unfeeling planter and overseer lashing his 
degraded slaves — tyrants and persecutors dragging " the ex- 



MERCY AND FORBEARANCE OF GOD. 



53 



cellent ones of the earth 1 ' to prisons, to dungeons, and to 
gibbets — the malevolent and envious man devising schemes 
for the ruin and destruction of his neighbour — the mutinous 
crew, in the midst of the ocean, rising up against tfieir supe- 
riors, slashing them with their sabres, and plunging their 
bodies into the deep — the gamester ruining a whole family by 
a throw of the dice — the sceptic sporting with the most sacred 
truths — the atheist attempting to defy the Omnipotent — the 
prostitute wallowing in the mire of uncleanness — the drunkard 
blaspheming the God of heaven in his midnight revels — *iu- 
merous tribes of human beings, in every quarter of the globe, 
dashing out each other's brains in mutual combat — hypocriti- 
cal professors of religion, harbouring malice and revenge 
against their brethren — and thousands of other iniquitous 
scenes which are daily presented before ihe pure eves of Om 
nisei en ce : could he behold all the abominable acts of this de- 
scription which are perpetrated on the surface of our globe, in 
the course of a single day, and were the elements of nature 
under his control, for executing condign punishment on trans- 
gressors, — it is more than probable, that, before another day 
dawned upon the world, the great globe we inhabit would be 
shattered to its centre, and enveloped in devouring flames* 
For no finite intelligence could refrain his indignation for t 
length of years, or could penetrate into all the reasons, why 
"sentence against an evil work should not be speedily execut- 
ed;" why the murderer should not be arrested by death before 
his hand is lifted up to strike; why the tyrant should not be 
cut off before his victims are secured; and why the slave 
should be doomed to drag out s;> many long years under the 
rod of a relentless master. But God beholds all these actions 
in all their bearings and relations to the plan of his govern- 
ment, and in all their eternal consequences; and, beholding 
them, he " keeps silence," and refrains from executing imme- 
diate and deserved punishment. 

This part of the divine character, when seriously consider- 
ed, is calculated to excite strong emotions of admiration and 
wonder; and these emotions must be raised to their highest 
pitch, when we consider the many instruments of vengeance 
which are every moment wielded by the hand of the Almighty. 
If forbearance were owing to impotence, or a want of means 
for the infliction of retributive justice, our admiration would 
cease. But all the elements of nature are under the immedi- 
ate control of the Governor of the universe ; and, in a thou* 
sand modes incomprehensible by us, He could make them the 
Instruments of his vengeance to chastise a guilty world, 44 For 



54 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



in his hand is the soul of every living thing, and the breath of 
all mankind." Let us consider, for a little, some of those 
agents which lie within the sphere of our knowledge in the 
system of nature." 

Of all the elements of nature there is none more delightful 
and beautiful in its effects than light. " Truly the light is 
sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the 
sun," It diffuses a thousand shades of colouring over the 
nills, the vales, the rivers, and the boundless deep, and opens 
to our view the glorious host of heaven. Yet this delightful 
visitant, by a slight modification, from the hand of Omnipo- 
tence, is capable of being transformed into the most destruc- 
tive element in nature. Light flies from the sun at the rate of 
200,000 miles in a second of time ; and it is owing to its par- 
ticles being almost infinitely small, that we feel no inconveni- 
ence from their rapid velocity. But, were the Creator to con- 
dense several millions of these particles into one, or impel 
them with a still greater velocity, the solid crust of our globe 
would be perforated and shattered in every point by this celes 
tial artillery, and its inhabitants would soon be battered to 
atoms. 

Again, the atmosphere which surrounds us, and in which we 
live and breathe ; which contains the principles of life ; which 
fans us with its gentle gales, and wafts to our ears the harmo- 
nies of music — is capable of being converted into an instru- 
ment of terror and destruction. It is composed chiefly of two 
different ingredients ; one of these is the principle of flame, — 
and if the other ingredient were extracted from the atmosphere, 
and this principle left to exert its native energy without con- 
trol, instantly the forests would be in a blaze ; the hardest me- 
tals, and the most solid rocks, would melt like wax ; the wa- 
ters of the ocean would add fuel to the raging element ; and, 
in a few minutes, the whole expanse of our globe would be en- 
veloped in one devouring flame. 

Again, the globe on which we reside is whirling round its 
axis every twenty-four hours, and is carried round the sun 
with a still greater velocity. Should that Almighty arm which 
first impelled it in its career, cause these motions suddenly to 
cease, mountains would be tumbled into the sea, forests torn 
up by their roots, cities overthrown and demolished, all nature 
would be thrown into confusion, and terror and destruction 
would overwhelm the inhabitants of the world. Not only the 
stopping of the earth's motions, but even a new direction given 
to its axis of rotation, would be productive of the most fatal 
effects. The earth's axis at present is directed to certain 



MERCY AND FORBEARANCE OF GOD. 



55 



points of the heavens, from which it never deviates, but in a 
very small degree ; but were the hand of Omnipotence to bend 
it so as to make it point in a different direction, the ocean 
would abandon its present bed, and overflow the land ; and a 
second universal deluge would overwhelm all the monuments 
of human grandeur, and sweep the earth's inhabitants into a 
watery grave. 

Again, not only the elements which immediately surround 
us, but even celestial bodies which are just now invisible to 
our sight, and removed to the distance of a thousand millions 
of miles, might be employed as ministers of vengeance.— 
There are at least a hundred comets connected with the solar 
system, which are moving in all directions, and crossing the 
orbits of the earth, and the other planets. Were the orbit of 
one of these bodies, in its approach to the sun, to be bent in a 
direction to that of the earth, the most alarming phenomena 
would be exhibited in the heavens. A ruddy globe, larger in 
appearance than the moon, would first announce terror to the 
inhabitants of the earth — every day this terrific object would 
increase in size, till it appeared to fill the celestial hemisphere 
with its tremendous disk ;— the light of the sun would be 
eclipsed — the stars would disappear — the ocean would be 
thrown into violent agitation, and toss its billows to the clouds 
— the earth would "reel to and fro, like a drunkard" — and 
universal alarm and confusion would seize upon all the tribes 
of the living world. At length, this tremendous orb would 
approach with accelerated velocity, and, striking the earth 
with a crash, as if heaven and earth had burst asunder, would 
shiver the globe into fragments, and for ever exterminate the 
race of man. 

It will at once be admitted, by every one who acknowledges 
the incessant agency of a Supreme Being in the movements of 
the universe, that any one, or all of these effects combined, 
are within the compass of Omnipotence ; and not only so, but 
they might all be accomplished with terrific energy in the 
course of a few moments. If puny man, by his mechanical 
dexterity, can suddenly stop a stupendous machine which he 
has put in motion — if he can impel red hot balls at the rate of 
500 miles an hour — if he can extract the oxygen from a small 
portion of the atmosphere, and cause it to set on fire the hard- 
est metallic substances — we cannot doubt for a moment, that, 
with infinitely greater ease, the Almighty could stop the earth 
in its career, separate the component parts of the atmosphere, 
•et on fire the foundations of the mountains, or impel the blaz- 
ing comet towards the earth, to crush it to atoms* That God 



66 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



has been a constant spectator of the wickedness of man for 
four thousand years; that he has, during all that period, 
wielded in his hands so many terrific ministers of vengeance ; 
and that he has hitherto refrained from executing deserved pu- 
nishment on the workers of iniquity — is, therefore, a striking 
evidence that his mercy is infinite, and that he is 44 long-suffer- 
ing and slow to anger, not willing that any should perish, but 
that all should come to repentance." 

It would, however, be a most unwarrantable conclusion, 
from this circumstance, to imagine that God beholds with indif- 
ference the scenes of iniquity that are hourly presented before 
him. In order to show that he is not an unconcerned specta- 
tor of the ways of men, and that the instruments of punishment 
are always in his hand, he sometimes " cometh out of his 
place, to punish the inhabitants of ilie earth for their iniquity," 
and displays the holiness of his nature, by 4i terrible things in 
righteousness." In such visitations, fct his way is in the whirl- 
wind and the storm ; clouds and darkness are round about 
him ; a fire goeth before him, and burnetii up his enemies 
round about ; the stormy winds are his messengers, and flames 
of fire his ministers; the clouds pour out their Waters; the 
sky sends forth a sound ; the voice of his thunder is in the 
heavens; his lightnings enlighten the world ; the earth quakes 
and the people tremble." The hurricane, which tears up 
whole forests by the loots, and tosses them about as stubble, 
which levels the loftiest spires with the ground, and dashes the 
stateliest ships against each other, till they are broken into 
shivers, and plunged into the deep; the lightnings, which fill 
the atmosphere with their blaze, which shatter the strongest 
buildings, and strike whole herds of cattle into a lifeless group; 
the pestilence, "which walketh in darkness," and cuts off 
thousands of its victims in a day; the volcano, belching forth 
rivers of fire, causing surrounding cities to tremble, and send- 
ing forth its bellowing* over a circuit of a thousand miles; — 
these, and many other agents which are in operation in the 
system of nature, are experimental proofs of the dreadful en- 
ergy of those ministers of destruction, which are constantly 
under the superintendence of the Almighty, and of his occa- 
sionally using them for the purpose of chastising the nations 
for their iniquities. 

In particular, the earthquake is one of the most terrible and 
destructive instruments of vengeance. In the year 1755, the 
shock of an earthquake was felt at Lisbon, which levelled to 
the ground more than the half of that populous city, and 
buried fifty thousand of its inhabitants in the ruins. The shock 



MERCY AND FORBEARANCE OF GOD. 5? 

extended its influence over an extent of four millions of 
square miles; and therefore, it is easy to conceive, that, had 
a little greater impulse been given to the physical agents 
which produced this terrible effect, the solid globe on which 
we stand might have been convulsed to its centre, and all its 

habitants crushed to death, amidst the universal ruin. 

We have also an experimental proof, that there are phy 
sical principles in the constitution of our globe, sufficient to 
give it a shock throughout every part of its solid mass, and 
that such a shock, at one period, it actually received. When 
the wickedness of man became great upon the earth, " when 
every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil 
continually,' 5 the fountains of the great deep were broken up, 
the cataracts of heaven were opened, and the whole solid crust 
of our globe received such a shock as rent the mountains 
asunder, and hurled them into the plains; the effects of which 
are still visible, in every Alpine district, and in the subter- 
raneous caverns of the earth. Of all the millions of the race 
of Adam that then existed, only eight individuals, after having 
been tossed for seven months on the tremendous billows of a 
boundless ocean, survived, to tell to their posterity the tidings 
of this universal wreck. The dreadful scenes of horror and 
consternation which must have been presented at this awful 
crisis 5 the stupendous forces which must have been in opera- 
tion in the atmosphere above, and in the foundations of the 
earth beneath, and the tremendous clash of elemental war 
which must have ensued, throughout every region of earth, 
air, and sea, — it is beyond the power of the human imagina- 
tion to depict, in all their terrific grandeur. But we have 
every reason to conclude, that the bottom of the ocean was 
lifted up to the level of the loftiest mountains, that disruptions 
of the mountains and of the densest rocks ensued, that dread- 
ful explosions resounded throughout the whole expanse of 
Nature, and that the mighty waters hurled their billows with 
resistless fury in every direction, rolling immense rocks and 
forests from one continent to another, and whirling the wrecks 
of different regions to the opposite extremities of the globe. 

Were it at any time the intention of the Almighty to inflict 
deserved punishment on a particular district, or class of men, 
without deranging the whole structure of our globe, we have 
also an experimental proof how easily this could be effected, 
even without infringing the established laws of nature. He 
has only to condense the powerful energies of the electrical 
fluid in a large cloud, and to despatch it on the wings of the 
wind, to discharge its thunderbolts on any particular city, or 



68 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



mountain, or plain, — and the work of destruction is instantly 
accomplished. A striking instance of this kind happened, in 
the year 1772, in the island of Java, in the East Indies. On 
the ilth of August, at the dead hour of night, a bright cloud 
was observed covering a mountain in the district of Cheribon, 
and at the same moment several reports were heard, like those 
of a cannon. The people who dwelt on the upper parts of the 
mountain not being able to fly with sufficient swiftness, a great 
part of the cloud, about nine miles in circumference, detached 
itself under them, and was seen at a distance, rising and falling 
like the waves of the sea, and emitting globes of tire so lumi- 
nous, that the night became as clear as day. The effects of 
this dreadful explosion were astonishing. Every thing was 
destroyed for twenty miles around. The houses were demol- 
ished; the plantations were buried in the earth ; vast numbers 
of goats, sheep, and horses, and 1500 head of cattle were de- 
stroyed ; and above two thousand human beings were in a 
moment plunged into the gulf of eternity.* 14 With God is 
terrible Majesty. Who can stand before his indignation? who 
can abide in the fierceness of his anger? The mountains quake 
before him; the hills melt, and the earth is burned at his pre- 
sence." 44 Let all the earth fear the Lord; let all the inhabi- 
tants of the world stand in awe of him." 

*In this, and the other illustrations of this subject stated above, I con- 
sider the Divine Being as the grand agent in directing the operations of 
the elements, but without infringing those general laws which are found 
to opeiate with undeviating constancy in the system of the universe. To 
explore the manner in which these general laws are directed to produce 
certain specific effects, in reference to particular regions and tribes of man- 
kind, must obviously be beyond the limits of our faculties; unless we 
could enter into all the designs of the Eternal Mind, when he gave birth 
to the universe, and arranged its elementary parts; and unless we could 
take a comprehensive view of the remotest tendencies of the elements of 
nature, and the times and circumstances in which they shall produce a 
specific and extraordinary effect. All these tendencies and circumstances 
were before the Mind of the Eternal Jehovah, when he established the 
plan of his moral government; and, therefore, whatever events may occur 
in the physical system, must be considered as the accomplishment of his 
moral purposes, in reference to the moral agents he lias created. It 
would be presumptuous in so limited a being as man, to determine, in 
every case, what is the precise moral reason of the extraordinary destruc- 
tive effects of physical agents. We can only say, in general, "that they 
are connected with the sin and depravity of man. But, at that solemn 
day, when the reasons of the Divine dispensations shall be laid open, it 
will perhaps be found, that such uncommon and alarming effects were 
the punishment of aggravated transgressions, the peculiar malignity and 
tendency of which were removed, in a great measure, beyond the sphere 
of general observation. 



MERCY AND FORBEARANCE OF GOD. 



59 



Thus it appears* that God is not an unconcerned spectator 
of the ways of men — that he has every moment at his com- 
mand, the most destructive elements of nature — and that we 
have abundant proofs that these destructive elements have 
been occasionally used, for inflicting condign punishment on 
the workers of iniquity. Notwithstanding these resources of 
vengeance, we find, by experience, that his mercy is exercised, 
from year to year, and from century to century, towards a 
tvorld, the majority of whose inhabitants are daily trampling 
under foot his sacred institutions, and his holy laws. The in- 
stances which occur, of the devastations of the hurricane, the 
thunder, the volcano, the earthquake, and the pestilence, are 
comparatively few, and seem intended chiefly to arouse the 
attention of thoughtless and ungrateful man; to prevent hira 
from running to the extreme of wickedness ; and to convince 
him that "the Most High ruleth in the kingdoms of men," and 
that "verily there is a God who judgeth in the earth." Hence 
we may perceive the striking emphasis of the language of the 
inspired writers : " The Lord is slow to anger" and yet 
" great in power" 

This display of the exercise of perfect self-command in the 
Divine Mind, is, therefore, calculated, as well as his wisdom 
and goodness, to inspire us with emotions of Reverence, Ad- 
miration, and Love. " The Lord is merciful and gracious, 
slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy. As the heaven is high 
above the earth, so great is his mercy toward them that fear 
him. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his 
benefits." 



SECTION VI. 

Of the Rectitude of the Divine Character. 

Another perfection in the character of God, which is "alcu 
lated to inspire confidence and affection, is his Justice, or, the 
Rectitude of his nature. 

The Rectitude of the Divine Being, in its most extensive 
sense, consists in doing that which, in all cases, is right, upon 
the whole; or, in other words, that which will have the great- 
est tendency to promote the order and happiness of hi3 uni- 
versal empire. It includes under it, the idea of distributive 
justice, which consists in rewarding the good, and punishing 
the bad, according to equitable laws, calculated to produce 
harmony and happiness throughout the whole intelligent sya- 



60 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



tem. This perfection of the Deity may be considered as a 
branch of his general benevolence, which appears to be the 
source of all his moral attributes, and the spring of all his ac- 
tions. The display of his natural and moral perfections, and 
the general happiness of the intelligences which exist through- 
out his immense and eternal empire, appear to be the great ob- 
jects in view, in his moral government of the universe: and, 
in order to secure these objects, it is requisite that justice be 
impartially administered, according to the eternal rules of rec- 
titude, and that "every one be rewarded according to his 
works." 

That this attribute is possessed by the Divine Being, in the 
highest degree, appears from the following considerations. — 
He exists, and has always existed, completely independent of 
all his creatures; he is in the actual possession of boundless 
felicity, which no other being can interrupt; and is consequent- 
ly liable to no evil, nor diminution of enjoyment. He is Om- 
nipotent, and therefore can accomplish whatever he pleases, 
and can effectually prevent whatever might detract from his 
happiness, or disturb the order of his government. He has, 
therefore, nothing to fear from any other being, and can desire 
nothing from his creatures to increase his felicity. Conse- 
quently, 710 possible motive or temptation can exist, to induce 
him to inflict an act of injustice on any of the intellectual be- 
ings he has formed. Injustice among men, proceeds either 
' from want of intelligence to discriminate between what is 
right and wrong; from want of power to bring their purposes 
into effect; from the fear of some evil or disadvantage which 
may arise from the impartial distribution of justice ; from the 
idea of some imaginary good of which they might be deprived ; 
from some mental defect incident to the present state of hu- 
manity; from some prejudice against the individuals towards 
whom justice ought to be administered; or from the indulgence 
of some cruel and depraved dispositions. But none of these 
causes or motives can exist in the mind of the All-perfect and 
infinite Creator. His comprehensive eye takes in, at one 
glance, all the circumstances, even the most minute, on which 
a righteous decision depends ; he is no " respecter of persons ;" 
he can indulge no malevolent dispositions; he can expect no 
accession of enjoyment from an act of injustice; he has 
nothing to fear from the execution of his decisions; his power 
is all-sufficient to bring them into full effect, at the time, and 
in the manner, which is most conducive to the happiness of 
the universe ; and his benevolence, which is displayed through- 
out all his works, effectually prevents him from withholding 



JUSTICE OF GOB. 



61 



good, or inflicting evil, beyond the desert of the subjects of 
his government. 

This character of the Deity is amply exhibited and confirm- 
ed in the declarations of Sacred Scripture, where it is asserted, 
that " He is a God of truth, and without iniquity ; just and 
right is he." "Thou art just," says Nehemiah, " in all that is 
brought upon us ; for thou hast done right, but we have done 
wickedly." " Shall mortal man be more just than God ? Surely 
God will not do wickedly, neither will the Almighty pervert 
judgment, Wilt thou condemn Him that is most just? Is it 
fit to say to a king, Thou art wicked ; or to princes, Ye are 
ungodly ? How much less to him who accepteth not the per- 
sons of princes, nor regardeth the rich more than the poor?" 
" The righteous Lord loveth righteousness; he shall judge 
the world in righteousness; he shall minister judgment to the 
people in uprightness. Justice and judgment are the founda- 
tion of his throne. The Lord our God is righteous in all his 
works which he doth." " I am the Lord who exercise judg- 
ment and righteousness in the earth." " God is not unright- 
eous to forget your work and labour of love which ye have 
showed towards his name. Great and marvellous are thy 
works, Lord God Almighty ; just and true are thy ways, thou 
King of saints." The equitable laws which he has promulgat- 
ed to his creatures ; the justice he requires to be exercised by 
one man to another ; his promises of reward, and his threat- 
enings of punishment; and the impressive judgments which 
he has executed on individuals, on nations, and on the world 
at large, all bear testimony to the existence of perfect recti- 
tude in the Divine character. 

But, although Scripture and Reason combine in attesting the 
immutable Justice of God, we are unable, in many instances, 
to trace the display of this perfection in his dispensations 
towards the inhabitants of our world. This is owing, in part, 
to the false maxims by which we form a judgment of his pro- 
cedure ; to the limited views we are obliged to take of the ob- 
jects of his government; to the want of a comprehensive 
knowledge of the whole plan of his dispensations, and the ends 
to be effected by them ; to the limited views we have acquired 
of the whole range of his universal dominions ; and to our ig- 
norance of the relations which may subsist, between our world 
and the inhabitants of other provinces of the Divine Empire. 
We behold many of " the excellent of the earth" pining in the 
abodes of poverty, and almost unnoticed by their fellow-men ; 
while we behold the wicked elevated to stations of power, and 
encircled with riches and splendour. From a false estimate 



inxs, ffllLOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



of true enjoyment, we are apt to imagine, that misery sur- 
rounds the one, and that happiness encircles the other ; and 
that there is an apparent act of injustice in these different 
allotments; whereas, God may have placed the one in the 
midst of worldly prosperity as a punishment for his sins, and 
the other in obscurity, as a stimulus to the exercise of virtue. 
We behold a man of piety and benevolence falling before the 
dagger of an assassin, who escapes with impunity: we are 
startled at the dispensation, and confounded at the mystery of 
providence, and are apt to exclaim, "Is there not a God that 
judgeth in the earth?" But, we are ignorant of the relation 
which such an event bears to the general plan of the Divine 
Government — of the links in the chain of events which pre- 
ceded it, and of those which shall follow in its train. We are 
ignorant of the relation it bears to particular families and so- 
cieties, or to the nation at large in which it happened, and 
even to all the nations of the earth. An event apparently 
trivial, or mysterious, or, according to our views, unjust, may, 
for aught we know, form an essential link in that chain of 
events which extends from the commencement of time to its 
consummation, which runs through a thousand worlds, and 
stretches into the depths of eternity. We all know, that some 
of the most appalling scenes of terror and destruction have 
often proceeded from an apparently trivial accident, and that 
events of the greatest importance have originated from causes 
so inconsiderable as to be almost overlooked. The British 
and Foreign Bible Society, which now engages the attention of 
the whole mass of the Christian world, and whose beneficent 
effects will soon extend to the remotest corners of the world, 
derived its origin from a casual conversation between a few 
obscure individuals, on the subject of distributing the Scrip- 
tures. And the apparently trivial circumstance, of observing 
that a certain mineral substance, when left free to move itself, 
uniformly points towards the north, has been the means, not 
only of the knowledge we have acquired of the different re- 
gions of our globe, but of imparting to millions of mankind 
incalculable blessings, which will descend to their posterity to 
the latest generations. 

Hence it appears, that, in our present circumstances, we 
are altogether incompetent to form a correct judgment of what 
is just or unjust in the present dispensations of the Almighty, 
unless we could survey, with the eye of a seraph, the ample 
plan of the divine government, — the whole chain of God's dis- 
pensations towards our race, — the numerous worlds and be- 
ings over which his moral government extends,— the relation 



JUSTICE OF GOD. 



03 



which the events now passing among us bear to other moral 
intelligences, either as subjects of contemplation, as warnings 
of the danger of apostacy from God, or as motives to universal 
subjection and obedience, — and the connexions, bearings, and 
dependencies of the whole of that moral system which em- 
braces unnumbered worlds, and constitutes one grand and 
boundless empire, under the government of the Creator. Even 
then, with the eye and the mind of a finite intelligence we 
should occasionally meet with events which would surpass 
our comprehension, and be altogether inexplicable, on the 
grounds of the knowledge we had previously acquired, and 
should still be constrained to exclaim, "O the depth of the 
riches both of the wisdom, and the knowledge of God! How 
unsearchable are his judgments, and hi3 ways past finding 
out!" 

But, although "clouds and darkness," at present, hang over 
the ways of the Almighty, so that we cannot, in every instance, 
perceive the rectitude of his procedure, we may rest satisfied 
that "Justice and judgment are forever the foundation of his 
throne ;" and we are assured, by the Sacred Oracles, that a 
period is approaching, when the mystery of Providence will 
be unfolded, and when all its dark and perplexing events, in 
reference to this world, will be explained to the full conviction 
of all its assembled inhabitants. For "God hath appointed a 
day in which he will judge the world in righteousness by that 
man whom he hath ordained ; whereof he hath given assurance 
unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead." 
Then "the secrets of all hearts" shall be disclosed, and every 
man rewarded "according to his works;" for, "God shall 
bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, 
whether it be good, or whether it be evil." Then it will be 
clearly perceived, that " verily there is a reward for the 
righteous, and that there is a God that judgeth in the earth." 
Then the rectitude of Jehovah, in every part of his moral ad- 
ministration, will shine forth in all its lustre; a visible andl 
everlasting distinction will be made between the righteous and 
the wicked, and the whole intelligent creation will plainly 
discern between " him that served God, and him that served 
him not." 

In the mean time, God has not left himself without a wit- 
ness to the impartiality of his Justice in his allotments towards 
men, in that he has invariably connected misery with the via- 
lation of his laws, and happiness with the observance of them. 
However different the allotments of mankind may be, in re- 
gard to wealth, honour* or station, it holds invariably true. 



64 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



that "there is no peace," or substantial happiness, "to the 
wicked ;" and that " the man is blessed who fears the Lord, 
and delights in his commandments."* Place a man on the 
highest pinnacle of earthly grandeur, and let him indulge in 
schemes of ambition, avarice, pride, revenge, cruelty, and 
other violations of the divine law, and he may as soon attempt 
to stop the sun in his course, as to expect substantial enjoy 
ment while he continues in the indulgence of such malevolent 
passions. Place another in the most obscure abode of human 
life, and let him exercise piety, benevolence, humility, and 
every other Christian temper ; and he will enjoy a peace, an 
equanimity, and a portion of happiness, which the wicked can 
never possess, and which the wealth of the world can neithei 
give nor take away. Hence it is, that we behold so many in- 
stances of disgust at life, and of self-destruction, among those 
who are elevated to stations of power, and surrounded with 
every kind of sensitive enjoyment. — This consideration, oi 
itself, should silence every murmur that is apt to arise at the 
dispensations of God's Providence, and convince us that "he 
is righteous in all his ways, and holy in all his works." 

On the whole, then, it appears, that the justice of God has a 
tendency to inspire us with confidence, and love, and joy, no 
less than his mercy and benevolence. Were it not for this 
perfection of the divine character, omnipotence might become 
a most terrific and tremendous attribute of the Deity. We 
should have no motive but that oi fear to stimulate us to obe- 
dience ; we should feel no security against danger, and dis- 
tress, and the perpetual recurrence of spectacles of vengeance, 
and, in the course of ages, the spacious universe might be 
transformed into an immense region of " lamentation, and 
mourning, and wo." Were it not for this perfection, the be- 
nevolence of the Deity would degenerate into weakness and 
imbecility. Wicked men, and other depraved intelligences, 
presuming on freedom from impunity, and their diabolical 
passions acquiring strength and vigour, by long exercise, 
would carry misery and destruction in their train, wherever 
they exerted their energies ; and would interrupt, and ulti- 
mately destroy the harmony and felicity of the intelligent uni- 
verse. But, while we recognize the rectitude of the divine 
character as an immutable attribute of Deity, we can look for- 
ward with confidence through all the revolutions of time, and 
to all those eternal scenes which shall succeed the demolition 
of the present system of things, fully assured, that God is the 



* Psal. cxii. \ 



JUSTICE OF GOD. 



60 



universal Protector of his unnumbered offspring, — that his 
power will never be interposed to inflict an act of injustice— 
that no intelligent being will ever suffer a punishment beyond 
his desert — and that no happiness which his benevolence has 
devised, and his word has promised, will ever be withheld 
from those "who put their trust in his name, and hearken to 
the voice of his commandments." 



Thus I have endeavoured to show, that love to God, which is 
the first principle of the moral law, is founded upon the natural 
and moral perfections of the Deity— that the attributes o? 
omnipotence, wisdom, goodness, mercy, forbearance, and ju 9 
lice, are calculated to excite this noble affection to the higher 
degree in the minds of all holy intelligences.. I might als*; 
have illustrated this subject from considerations drawn from 
the infinity, the eternity, the immutability, the holiness, and 
veracity of God. But the illustrations already stated, will, I 
presume, be sufficient to demonstrate, that this affection, in 
conjunction with all its kindred emotions, ought to occupy the 
highest place in the human heart, and in the minds of all cre- 
ated intelligences. 

It may r perhaps, be insinuated by some, that the preceding 
illustrations have been carried to a greater length than the na- 
ture of the subject required—and it is readily admitted, thaf 
the mere logical argument did not require so extended illus- 
trations. Every person who knows the meaning of the terms 
made use of, will at once admit, that, since God is a Being 
possessed of almighty power, infinite wisdom, boundless be- 
nevolence, mercy, forbearance, and perfect rectitude — he 
ought to be loved affectionately and supremely. But such ge- 
neral and metaphysical reasoning, though perfectly conclusive 
and incontrovertible, possesses but a slender influence over 
the mind, in exciting it to the cultivation of holy affections. 
For the sake of impression, it is essentially requisite, that the 
various manifestations of Divine Perfection should be pre- 
sented to the view, in order that the mind may have a tangible 
train of thought before it, to stimulate its activities, and its re- 
ligious emotions. General views and reasonings on any sub- 
ject, and especially on the subject of Religion, produce a very 
slight impression on the majority of mankind. It is not ow 
ing so much to the want of conviction of the truth of certain 
important propositions in Religion, that divine truths take so 

6* 



66 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELTGIOX 



slender a hold of the mind, as to the want of those definite and 
impressive conceptions which can be acquired only by a mi- 
nute and attentive survey of the works and the dispensations 
of God. And, in this point of view, the preceding illustrations, 
had the limited nature of the present work permitted, might 
have been prosecuted to a much greater extent. 

I might also have illustrated this subject from a considera- 
tion of the relations in which God stands to us, and to all his 
creatures. He is our Creator, and we are the workmanship 
of his hands. He formed our bodies, and he sustains our 
spirits. His physical energy is felt by us every moment, in 
making our hearts to beat, and our lungs to play, and in impel- 
ling the crimson fluid which circulates in our bodies, through 
a thousand different tubes. To him we are indebted for life, 
and all its comforts; and for all the powers, capacities, and 
privileges, which dignify our nature, and exalt us above the 
lower ranks of existence. — He is our Preserver and bounti- 
ful Benefactor, who "sustains our souls in life," who supports 
i!,e course of nature, in its diversified movements, and " daily 
loads us with his benefits." To his superintending Providence 
we are indebted for the food we eat, the water we drink, the 
clothes we wear, the air we breathe, the light which cheers us, 
the splendours of the sun, the milder radiance of the moon, 
the magnificence of the starry sky, the rains and dews which 
fertilize the soil; the earth, with its riches and abundance; the 
trees, plants, and waving grain, which enrich our fields ; the 
flowers which deck the meadows, the beautiful and magnifi- 
cent colouring which is spread over the terrestrial landscape, 
the succession of day and night, and the vicissitude of the 
seasons. In short, to him we are indebted for all the objects 
and movements around us, which render our abode on earth 
convenient, desirable, and productive of enjoyment, 

He is our Father, and we are his children. He watches 
over us with a tender care ; and, " as a father pitieth his chil- 
dren, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him." This tender, and 
indissoluble relation, binds us to him by the strongest ties, and 
is calculated to excite the most ardent filial affection and grati- 
tude. He is our Sovereign and Lawgiver, and we are his 
subjects ; and all his laws are framed on the principles of eter- 
nal a.id immutable rectitude, and are calculated to promote 
the harmony and happiness of the whole intelligent creation. 
He is our Master, and we are his servants, and " his com- 
mandments are not grievous." He is our Friend in adversity, 
our Protector in danger and in distress; our Instructor, who 
has imparted to us knowledge and understanding; and our 



ADMIRATION OF GOD's WORKS. 



6 



Redeemer^ who "spared not his own Son, but delivered him 
up for us all," that we might be rescued from the gulf of de- 
pravity and ruin, and exalted to a state of consummate felicity. 
In fine, he is that Being who is the inexhaustible fountain of 
light, of life, and of joy, to all beings — on whom depend all 
our future prospects in this world, and all the transporting 
scenes to which we look forward in an interminable state of 
existence. — All these, and many other relations, in which we 
stand to the God of Heaven, demonstrate, that Supreme Love 
to this Beneficent Being, is the first and highest duty of every 
rational creature ; and they present the most powerful motives 
to stimulate us to its exercise. But, to illustrate these topics, 
in minute detail, would be inconsistent with the limited plan 
of the present work ; and it is the less necessary, as several 01 
them have already been brought into view, in the course of 
the preceding illustrations* 



SECTION VII. 

Modes in which Love to God is displayed. 

I shall now offer a remark or two on the nature of this sub 
lime affection, and the manner in which it ought to be mani- 
fested. Love to God is not a single and solitary affection in 
the human breast, which evaporates in a few transient and 
undefined emotions ; but is the spring of every holy activity, 
and is intimately connected with every virtuous emotion, with 
every pious sentiment, with every religious requirement, with 
every sensitive enjoyment, with our present comforts, and our 
future and eternal prospects. 

It includes in it, complacency, or delight in the character and 
administration of God, Yiewing him as a Self-existent and 
Eternal Being, — filling immensity with his presence, launching 
innumerable worlds into existence, upholding them all by the 
" Word of his Power," and superintending the minutest con- 
cerns of all his offspring, from the loftiest Seraph, through all 
the inferior gradations of existence to the smallest animalcula, 
— the mind feels the most delightful emotions* in regarding the 
happiness of the universe as perfectly secure under his physical 
and moral administration. Contemplating his bounty to angels 
and to men, to the birds of the air, the fishes of the sea, and 
the numerous tribes which traverse the surface of the land,— 



68 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION* 



his mercy towards our fallen race,— his long-suffering and for- 
bearance towards wicked nations and individuals, — his faith- 
fulness in the accomplishment of his promises and threaten- 
ings, — and the unerring rectitude of his dispensations towards 
all his creatures, — the mind feels supreme approbation and 
complacency in his attributes, purposes, and administrations ; 
beholding in his character an excellence and amiableness, a 
moral dignity and grandeur which is not to be found in any 
created intelligence. Even in reference to those acts of his 
government which appear dreadful and appalling — in the vol- 
cano, the earthquake, the thunders, the hurricane, the tempest, 
and the doom of the impenitent, its approbation and compla- 
cency are not withheld, convinced that perfect rectitude is the 
rule of his procedure, and that his Righteousness will one day 
be brought to light before an assembled world. 

Love to God includes admiration of his wonderful works, 
_']ie man whose affections are directed to the Supreme Intelli- 
gence is not an indifferent spectator of the manifestations of 
Deity. He beholds the magnificent canopy of heaven daily 
moving around him in silent grandeur; his eye penetrates be- 
yond the apparent aspects of the twinkling luminaries which 
adorn it, and surveys the hand of the Almighty wheeling stu- 
pendous globes through the immeasurable regions of space, 
and extending his operations throughout unnumbered systems, 
dispersed over the boundless expanse of the universe. He 
beholds the great globe on which he is placed, impelled by the 
same Omnipotent arm, prosecuting its course through the 
lepths of space, and circling around the sun, to bring about 
the revolutions of the seasons. He contemplates the vast 
ranges of mountains that stretch around it — the mass of waters 
in the mighty ocean, and its numerous tribes of animated 
beings — the "dry land," with all its furniture and inhabitants 
— the vast caverns, chasms, and shattered strata which appear 
in its interior recesses — and the atmosphere with which it is 
surrounded, with the clouds, the lightnings, and the tempests 
which diversify its aspect. He traces the footsteps of the 
Almighty in his moral administration — in the deluge which 
swept away the inhabitants of the Antediluvian world — in the 
burning of Sodom, the dividing of the Red Sea, the thunders 
and lightnings of Sinai— the manifestation of the Son of God 
in human flesh; his sufferings, death, resurrection, and trium- 
phant ascension— in the propagation of the Gospel in the face 
of every opposition, in the rise and fall of empires, the de- 
thronement of kings, the battles of warriors, and the convul- 
sions of nations. And, while he contemplates such object? 



HUMILITY. 



69 



and operations, his admiration is excited by the iocomprehen- 
sible knowledge displayed in the contrivance of the universe, 
the boundless benevolence which extends over all these works, 
and the omnipotent power by which all the mighty movements 
of Creation and Providence are effected. And, while he ad- 
mires, he is filled with strong emotions of reverence of the glo 
rious perfections of that Being, whose mighty hand conducts 
those stupendous movements, and he feels the full force of the 
impressive exhortation of the Psalmist, " Let all the earth fear 
the Lord ; let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of 
him: for he spake, and it was done; he commanded, and it 
stood fast." Even the abstract conceptions we have of the 
immensity of the Divine Being, by which he is present in every 
part of infinite space — the eternity oi his duration, and the 
range of his omniscience which embraces an intimate know 
ledge of the thoughts, the purposes, and the actions of all 
creatures; are calculated to overpower the mind with emotions 
of veneration and awe, blended with feelings of affection and 
delight at the recollection of the relation in which we stand to 
this glorious Intelligence. 

Again, Love to God includes Humility and self-abasement 
in the divine Presence. There is no disposition which appears 
more incompatible with supreme affection for the Creator than 
pride, haughtiness, and arrogance. " God resisteth the proud." 
Even "a proud look" is declared to be an " abomination'^in 
his sight. And, if the indulgence of pride be inconsistent 
with the love of God, humility must be regarded as one of its 
essential and distinguishing accompaniments. When a man 
who loves God reflects on his condition and character — that 
he is a creature who derived his existence from a superior 
Being, to whom he is indebted for all his powers and faculties, 
and by whose power and mercy he is every moment preserved 
in existence; when he considers his station in the universe — 
that he is only like an atom in the immensity of creation, when 
compared with the innumerable beings which people its wide 
domains — that he stands near the lowest part of the scale of 
intelligent existence, and that 64 all the inhabitants of the earth 
are as grasshoppers" before Him who sits on the throne of the 
heavens; when he recollects that he has apostatized from the 
God who made him, that he is guilty of innumerable violations 
of his righteous laws, and stands condemned at the bar of Him 
" who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity;" when he con- 
templates the circumstances in which he is now placed in con- 
sequence of his transgressions — the pains, diseases, poverty, 
bereavements, and reproaches, to which he is subjected; tb« 



70 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



storms, and tempests, and elemental war to which he is ex- 
posed; the degradation which awaits his body at the hour of 
dissolution and in the mansions of the tomb; and the ignorance, 
the errors, and follies into which he has fallen; — when he con- 
siders that " lowliness of mind" is a characteristic of the most 
exalted of created intelligences, who " veil their faces in the 
Divine Presence, and cheerfully extend their benevolent re- 
gards to the meanest human being who is an 44 heir of salva 
tion ;" and, above all, when he reflects on the ineffable gran- 
deur of that Being before whom " all nations are as the drop 
of a bucket," he is convinced that pride is the most unreason- 
able principle that can exist in the human breast, and that the 
most profound humility ought forever to characterize his 
thoughts and actions, both in the presence of God, and before 
the eyes of men. On such a character only will "the High 
and Lofty One who inhabits eternity," look with complacency, 
and in such a heart alone can the love of God be expected to 
reside in all its generous and noble exercises. Such a dispo- 
sition, mingling with all the other benevolent affections, will 
render them sweet and delightful ; it will render us amiable in 
the eyes of our fellow-men; it will secure us against all the 
wretched effects and boisterous passions which flow from 
haughtiness and pride; it will mitigate the sorrows, the per- 
plexities and anxieties to which we are subjected in our earthly 
pilgrimage; it will enable us to preserve our minds tranquil 
and serene amidst the provocations, the affronts, and the con- 
tentions to which we are exposed in our intercourses with 
general society, and will prepare us for associating with the 
inhabitants of that happier world, where seraphic love, pro- 
found reverence of the Divine Majesty, and profound humility 
mingle with all their intercourses and employments. 

Resignation to the providential dispensations of the Al- 
mighty is another manifestation and accompaniment of Love 
to God. To be habitually discontented, and to murmur and 
repine under the allotments of his providence, must obviously 
appear to be inconsistent with sincere and ardent affection for 
the Supreme Disposer of events. Resignation to the will of 
God is the duty of every intelligent creature towards the 
Creator ; and in proportion to the degree in which this prin- 
ciple exists, will be the happiness of the intellectual being that 
exercises it. Angels are perfectly happy, because they are 
perfectly submissive to the will of their Creator — being fully 
contented with the station allotted them in the universe, and 
completely resigned to all the future services and allotments 
which Infinite Wisdom has ordained. Wherever pure ajffec 



RESIGNATION. 



n 



tion towards God actuates the mind among the inhabitants of 
our world, it produces a disposition similar in kind, though 
inferior in degree, to that which animates the breasts of the 
Cherubim and the Seraphim in the regions of bliss. 

He, who is actuated by this noble principle, regards every 
providential event as the appointment of his Father in heaven. 
The devouring flames may consume his habitation to ashes, 
and scatter his treasures to " the four winds of heaven ;" the 
ship in which his wealth, is embarked may be dashed against 
the rocks, and sink " as lead in the mighty waters;" his friends 
may forsake him in the season of his deepest anxiety and dis- 
tress ; the wife of his bosom, whom he tenderly loved, may be 
snatched from his embrace by the cold hand of death; his 
children, dearer to him than his own soul, may fall victims, 
one after another, to some pestilential disease, and be for ever 
removed from his sight to the "land of deep forgetfulness ;" 
his familiar friend in whom he trusted may " lift up his heel 
against him," and load him with unmerited reproaches ; his 
own body may be chastened with sore pain and loathsome 
disease ; a fall from a horse may break the bones of his leg, 
and render him lame for life ; a random blow may bruise his 
eye-balls, and deprive him of all the entertainments of vision, 
he may be stretched for many long years on the bed of lan- 
guishing; his country may either be ravaged and laid waste 
by destroying armies, or rains and inundations may sweep aw T ay 
the produce of his fields. But under all such calamities, he 
bows with submission to the will of Him " who rules in the 
whirlwind and directs the storm; 5 ' not because he has fortified 
his mind with a stoical apathy and indifference towards the 
evils of life; not because he is incapable of feeling the evils he 
is doomed to suffer ; for he may feel them in the acutest degree, 
even while he exercises full resignation ; but he is resigned, 
because he feels assured that they are the appointment of his 
Almighty Friend — that they are parts of the plan of unerring 
"Wisdom — that they are intimately connected with the whole 
chain of Providence that runs through his present existence — 
that they are intended, in the scheme of Infinite Benevolence, 
to promote his happiness in a way which his limited faculties 
are unable at present to comprehend — and that they have a 
bearing on the scenes and enjoyments of the eternal world. 
And therefore, under the pressure of his most painful feelings, 
he is enabled to adopt the triumphant language of the prophet, 
1 Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither fruit be in 
the vine ; the labour of the olive fail, and the fields yield no 
meat; the flock be cut off from the fold, and there be no herd 



72 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



in the stall; yet will I rejoice in the Lord, I will be glad in the 
God of my salvation." While others murmur and rage, and 
toss themselves like a wild bull in a net, and curse the supposed 
authors of their calamities, he is enabled to " possess his soul 
in patience," convinced of the rectitude of the divine dispen- 
sations ; and thus displays a nobleness of mind, and a heroism 
which is " above all Greek, above all Roman fame." 

Again, Love to God comprehends Gratitude for the benefits 
he bestows. Gratitude is that particular modification of Love 
which flows out towards God, considered as the Author and 
Bestower of all felicity : it is love excited by kindness commu- 
nicated from benevolent motives. It is one of the most natu 
ral and obvious manifestations of that general principle which 
I have been hitherto illustrating; for ingratitude is altogether 
inconsistent with love to a benefactor. In order to kindle this 
amiable affection into a lively flame, the person in whose 
bosom it glows endeavours to take a minute and expansive 
survey of the " loving-kindness of God," and of the countless 
variety of benefits he is continually receiving. He feels grate- 
ful to God for his existence, for the powers and capacities with 
which he is endowed, for the rank which he holds in the scale 
of terrestrial existence ; in being raised above the clods of the 
valley, and furnished with faculties superior to the beasts of 
the forest and the fowls of heaven. He feels grateful that he 
was brought into existence in a Christian land, and in civilized 
society ; that the "glad tidings of salvation" have reached his 
ears ; that " God so loved the world, that He gave his only 
begotten Son that whosoever believeth on him might not perish 
but have everlasting life," and that every enjoyment requisite 
for his present and future happiness is secured through this 
plan of Divine Benevolence. But he does not rest satisfied 
with vague and general views of these important benefits; he 
contemplates the degradation into which sin had plunged him, 
the greatness of the misery from which the love of God has 
delivered him, the moral perfection of his nature to which he 
is now training, the serenity of mind he experiences in the 
practice of the divine precepts, the security he feels for his 
present and future safety under the protection of Omnipotence, 
the " strong consolation" under the evils of life which the pro- 
mises of God lead him to expect, the victory over death of 
which he is secured 44 through Christ Jesus his Lord," the 
resurrection of his body at the close of time, the 44 new heavens 
and the new earth" to which he is destined at the dissolution 
of this sublunary system, the alliance into which he is brought 
to the angelic tribes and other pure intelligences, his moral 



GRATITUDE. 



73 



capacity for associating with every holy being in the universe, 
and the endless succession of transporting scenes which will 
burst upon his view through the ages of eternity. While con- 
templating these high privileges, in ali their bearings and va- 
ried ramifications, emotions of affection and gratitude arise 
in his breast which can only be expressed in the language oi 
elevated devotion. 

" O how shall words with equal warmth 

The gratitude declare 
That glows within my ravish'd heart ! 

But Thou canst read it there." 

" Bless the Lord, O my soul ! and all that is within me bless 
his holy name. Give thanks to the Lord and forget not all his 
benefits ; who forgiveth all thine iniquities, who healeth all 
thy diseases ; who redeemeth thy life from destruction, and 
crowneth thee with loving-kindness and tender mercies." 

Nor does he feel less grateful to God for his kindness as dis- 
played in the material world, and in the ordinary course of 
his providence. He feels grateful for those scenes of sublimity 
and beauty with which the visible universe is adorned — for the 
sun when he ascends the vault of heaven, and diffuses his ra- 
diance over the mountains and the vales — for the moon, when 
she "walks in brightness" through the heavens, and cheers 
the shades of night — for the planets, while they run their 
ample rounds, and evince, by their magnitude and motions, the 
eternal omnipotence of their Maker — for the innumerable host 
of stars, which unite their splendouvs to adorn the canopy of 
the sky, and display the riches, and grandeur, and boundless 
extent of God's universal kingdom — for the light, which darts 
with unconceivable rapidity from the celestial luminaries, and 
diffuses a thousand shades of colour on the terrestrial land- 
scape — for the surrounding atmosphere, which supports the 
element of fire, conveys the clouds over every region, and sus- 
tains and invigorates the functions of animal life — for the va- 
riety of beautiful and majestic scenery which diversifies our 
terrestrial system — for the towering cliffs, the lofty mountains, 
and the expansive vales — for the meandering river, gliding 
through the fields, and diffusing health and fertility wherever 
it flows — for the riches which abound in the gardens, the forests, 
and the fields and the mineral treasures contained in the bowels 
of the mountains — for the harmony of musical sounds, the 
mellifluous notes of the nightingale and the lark, and the me- 
lodious warblings which resound from the vales, the moun- 
tains, and the groves — for the flowers which enamel the mem 

7 



74 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



dows, the trees, the shrubs, and the waving grain which adorn 
the earth with picturesque beauty — for the animated beings 
which contribute to our comfort, the bee which collects for us 
honey from every opening flower, the sheep which yields its 
fleeces for our clothing, and thousands of other creatures which 
contribute to supply us with food, raiment, furniture, and in- 
numerable enjoyments. In all these, and similar objects, he 
perceives ample reasons for elevating his soul in lively grati- 
tude to his bountiful Benefactor. 

When he turns his eyes upon himself, and considers the 
wonderful machinery which gives life and motion to his frame, 
he perceives the strongest reason for the exercise of incessant 
admiration and gratitude. He feels grateful for every joint of 
his fingers, and for every movement of his wrist, by which he 
is enabled with the utmost ease to perform a countless variety 
of manual operations essential to his comfort — for the hundreds 
of bones which support his animal system, with their various 
articulations, and the hundreds of muscles and tendons which 
are interwoven with every part of the machine, which enable 
it to perform, without the least obstruction, a thousand varied 
movements subservient to his health, convenience, and plea- 
sure. He cannot walk through his apartment, nor lift his eyes 
to the heavens, nor move a joint of his finger, nor draw a sin- 
gle breath, without perceiving an evidence of the wisdom and 
intelligence of his Almighty Maker. He perceives, that if 
only one joint were wanting, or one muscle out of action, or 
one movement out of a thousand interrupted, he would in- 
stantly be subjected to a thousand painful sensations which 
would throw a gloom on every earthly enjoyment. But espe- 
cially, when he reflects on the wonders of vision — the thou- 
sands of millions of rays that are every moment darting from 
the objects around him, crossing each other in an infinity of 
directions, and yet conveying to every eye a distinct percep 
tion of their colours, motions, and diversified aspects; when 
he reflects on the facility with which he can turn his eye in 
every direction, upwards and downwards, to the right hand and 
to the left, and in a moment take in the landscape of the earth 
and the heavens "at a small inlet which a grain might close;" 
when he considers the numerous and complicated movements 
continually going on within him — the heart, like a powerful 
engine in perpetual motion, impelling, with prodigious force, 
streams of blood through a thousand different tubes — the nu- 
merous lacteal and lymphatic vessels absorbing nutriment from 
the food, and conveying it through every part of this wonder- 
ful machine; when he considers that these incessant motion* 



SUBLIMITY OF THE PRINCIPLE OF 75 



are, as it were, the immediate hand of the Divinity within him, 
over which he can exercise no control and which are all in- 
tended to preserve his existence and minister to his enjoy- 
ment, — he cannot forbear exclaiming, in the language of grate- 
ful admiration, "How precious are thy wonderful contrivances 
concerning me, O God! how great is the sum of them! If I 
should count them, they are more in number than the sand. 
I will praise thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made !" 

He does not overlook such instances of "the loving-kind- 
ness of God," because, to some, they may appear minute and 
trivial. He does not contrast them with what are reckoned 
spiritual and more important blessings ; nor attempt to insti- 
tute comparisons between the beneficent operations of Omni- 
potence, in order lo throw a certain portion of them into the 
shade. He considers all the operations of God, from the plan 
of redemption for guilty men, and the mission of his Son into 
our world, to the minutest muscle that moves the joint of a 
finger, or the ray of light that darts from a flower of the field, 
as parts of one vast system of boundless benevolence, as es- 
sentially connected together as the links of a chain; and, in 
regard to himself, he views all the variety of blessings now 
alluded to, as one undivided stream of unbounded beneficence, 
commencing with the first moment of his existence, running 
through all the scenes and circumstances of his terrestrial ex- 
istence, and expanding into the unfathomable ocean of eternity. 
In the whole series of contrivances and events which relate 
to his present and future existence, both in what we consider 
the minutest and the most magnificent works of the Deity, he 
perceives the stamp of Infinite Perfection, and a connexion 
of plan and of operation, which excludes all attempts at com- 
parisons and contrasts. Under such impressions, and with 
such views of the concatenation of every part of the scheme of 
divine benevolence, he is led to contemplate the kindness of 
God at every step, and in every object, and is ever ready to ex- 
claim, "What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits 
toward me? 1 ' 

In fine, supreme love to God includes, in its exercise, a de- 
light in the public and private exercises of his worship, a con- 
stant endeavour to yield a willing and unreserved obedience 
to all the institutions he has appointed, and to all the laws he 
has issued forth for counteracting the depravity of our natures, 
and for raising us to a state of moral perfection ; an active and 
enlightened zeal for the honour of his name, and for promot- 
ing those institutions which have a tendency to advance his 
kingdom in the earth ; a sincere and disinterested affection to 



THE PKItOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



all our fellow-men, and particularly to every class of holy in- 
telligences; a cordial approbation of all his plans and move- 
ments in creation and providence; and devout aspirations af- 
ter that higher state of existence, where the glories of his 
nature and "the kindness of his love" shall be more clearly 
unfolded, and where love shall glow in one uninterrupted and 

perpetual emoliotL 

Thus, it appears that love to God consists in complacency 
in his character and administration, and is inseparably connect- 
ed with admiration of his wonderful works, with humility, re- 
signation, and gratitude. 

I cannot conclude my remarks on this topic without advert- 
ing, for a little, to the nobleness and sublimity of this first and 
fundamental spring of all moral action. From what has been 
already stated, it appears that love to God is the most reason- 
able and amiable affection that can animate the human mind; 
for that Being who is the object of it is the sum of all perfec- 
tion, the standard of all moral and physical excellence, and 
the source of all the felicity enjoyed by every rank of existence 
throughout the boundless universe. It is also the most sub' 
lime and expansive affection that can pervade the mind of any 
created intelligence. It excites the most rapturous emotions 
when we contemplate the harmonies, the beauties, and the 
sublimities of the universe ; for it recognizes them as the dis- 
plays of boundless wisdom and boundless goodness; as the 
production of that Almighty Being who stands in the relation 
of our Father and our Friend; and leads us to conclude, that 
that power and intelligence which gave birth to all that is 
grand and beautiful in heaven and on earth, will be forever ex- 
ercised in contributing to our eternal enjoyment. Without 
such a recognition, creation appears only like an immense de- 
sert, and is apt to fill the mind with apprehension and terror; 
for it can feel no pleasurable emotions in contemplating the 
operations of a Being for whom it entertains no affectionate 
regard. But, in our solitary walks in the fields and the gar- 
dens, amidst the emanations of divine munificence; in oui 
journeys through the fertile plains ; in our excursions through 
the Alpine scenes of nature; in our investigations into the 
structure of the animal and vegetable tribes ; and in our con- 
templations on the wonders of the starry sky — love throws a 
radiance on all these objects, and excites an interest whicl\ 
cannot be appreciated by that mind which has never felt the 
force of this sacred emotion. 

It renders us superior to the ills of life, while, under its in- 
fluence, we bow, in cordial submission, to the divine dispell* 



SUBLIMITY OF THE PRINCIPLE OF LOVE, 



77 



sations, as the result of perfect wisdom, rectitude, and benevo- 
lence. It enables us to recognize the hand of a Divine Bene- 
factor in every enjo} T ment, and the rod of an affectionate 
Father in every trial and affliction to which we are subjected. 
It raises the soul above the carking cares and degrading pur- 
suits of the world, and enables it to look down with heroic in- 
difference on all those trivial incidents and fancied insults 
which irritate, and inflame, and torment "the children of 
pride." It preserves the mind in calm serenity amidst the 
raging of the tempest, the rolling thunders, the whirlwind, and 
the hurricane, the eruptions of the volcano, and the convul- 
sions of the earthquake; while it recognizes the Ruler of the 
storm, who presides amidst the crash of warring elements, as 
its omnipotent Protector and its eternal refuge.* It enables 
the man in whose bosom it resides, to contemplate with com 
posure the downfall of kings and the revolutions of nations, 
to anticipate the hour of his dissolution without dismay, and 
to look forward with fortitude to the ruins of dissolving nature, 
when "the elements shall melt with fervent heat," and the 
earth, with all its magnificence, shall be wrapt in flames ; con- 
fident that, under " the shadow of the wings of the Almighty,' 1 
he shall remain in perfect security, amidst "the wreck of mat- 
ter and the crush of worlds." 

This divine principle assimilates us to angels, and to every 
other class of holy intelligences. It renders us qualified for 
associating with these superior intellectual natures — for enter- 
ing into their vast and comprehensive views — for conversing 
with them on the sublime topics which occupy their attention 
—for bearing a part in their extensive schemes of universal 
benevolence — and for contributing, along with them, to the 
order and prosperity of God's everlasting kingdom. It se- 
cures to us the friendship and affection of all the virtuous in- 
habitants of the universe, and renders us fit for affectionate 
intercourse with them, wherever we may afterwards exist, 

* The celebrated Kircher^ in his relation of the dreadful earthquake in 
Calabria, in 1638, which overthrew the city of Euphemia, of which he 
was a spectator, expresses his feelings on that occasion in the following: 
words: — u The universal ruin around me, the crash of falling houses, the 
tottering of towers, and the groans of the dying, all contributed to raise 
terror and despair. On every side of me, I saw nothing but a scene of 
ruin and danger threatening wherever I should fly. I commended my- 
self to God, as my last great refuge. At that hour, O how vain was every 
sublunary happiness ! wealth, honour, empire, wisdom, all mere useless 
sounds, and as empty as the bubbles of the deep. Just standing on the 
threshold of eternity, nothing but God was my pleasure; and the neare* 
I approached, I only loved him the more." 

7* 



78 



THE PHILOSOPHY 6? RELIGION 



throughout the boundless expanse of creation. Should we 
ever be permitted, during the lapse of eternal duration, to 
wing our flight from world to world, in order to enlarge our 
views of God's unbounded empire, the exercise of this holy 
affection would secure to us a friendly reception and an affec- 
tionate intercourse among all the pure intelligences within the 
range of his moral administration: for, ao this principle is 
founded on the nature of God, who is eternal and unchangeable, 
it must pervade the minds of the inhabitants of all worlds that 
have retained their primitive integrity. It is this divine affec- 
tion which, excites the rapturous flame that glows in the 
breasts of the angelic tribes, which enlivens the songs and the 
adorations of the cherubim and the seraphim, which inspires 
•item with a noble ardour in executing the commands of their 
Creator, and which animates them in their flight from the cc- 
estial regions to this obscure corner of creation, when they 
minister to the heirs of salvation. It was this noble principle 
which impelled the angel Gabriel in his rapid flight through 
the celestial spaces, when he descended to announce to Daniel 
the answer to his supplications, and to Zacharias and Mary 
the birth of the Saviour; which animated the angels who un- 
barred the prison doors to Peter, and gave assurance to Paul 
of the divine protection, while he was tossing on the tempes- 
luous billows of the Adriatic sea; and which fanned the flame 
of devotion in the heavenly host, when they sung, in the plains 
of Bethlehem, " Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth* 
and good will towards men." 

In ffrrB, this sublime affection assimilates us to God, who is 
benevolence itself who supremely loves his own character, 
•and who is incessantly displaying his benevolence, in all its 
infinitely diversified effecis, throughout the intelligent universe. 
It assimilates us to Jesus the Son of the Highest, who is "the 
brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of his 
person," and who is forever actuated with fervent zeal for the 
honour of God, and for the happiness of man. It constitutes 
the foundation of all felicity ; it opens the gates to perpetual 
-enjoyment; it secures its possessor of eternal happiness, as 
its natural and necessary result, and prepares him for ming- 
ling in the employments of the "innumerable company of angels 
and the spirits of just men made perfect:" for, all the trans- 
porting scenes of glory, and all the avenues to felicity, which 
will be opened to the immortal spirit, while ages, numerous as 
the sand, are rolling on, while mighty worlds are emerging 
'Out of nothing, and innumerable orders of beings are starting 
mto 'existence, may be -considered as so many infinitely direr- 



SUBLIMITY OF THE PRINCIPLE OF LOVE. 



79 



«ified streams flowing from supreme affection to the blessed 
God, as the spring of every rapturous enjoyment. Possessed 
of this divine principle, we secure the most honourable con- 
nexions, become benefactors to the intelligent universe, par- 
ticipators of the enjoyments of seraphic natures, agents for 
carrying forward the plans of Infinite Benevolence, and "work- 
ers together with God," in accomplishing his eternal designs. 
Without it, we become nuisances in the kingdom of God, rebels 
against his government, pests to fellow intelligences, destitute 
of the noblest of all affections, deprived of substantial enjoy- 
ment in the present world, and exposed to misery, without in- 
terruption, in the world to come. 

If such be the native e fleets of supreme love to God, and if 
this principle lie at the foundation of all genuine morality, how 
foolish and preposterous is it for Christian moralists to wander 
through the dark labyrinths of Greek and Roman literature, 
and the intricate mazes of modern sceptical philosophy, in 
search of any other principles of moral action? It is like grop- 
ing for the light of the sun in the winding's of a subterraneous 
grotto, and preferring the glimmering of a taper to the full 
blaze of the orb of day. It is, to forsake 44 the fountain of living 
waters, and to hew out to themselves broken and empty cis- 
terns, that can hold no water." 

In order to invigorate and expand this affection in the mind, 
it is requisite that we take a comprehensive view of all the 
manifestations of that Being towards whom it is directed, as 
exhibited in the history of his operations recorded in the 
volume of Inspiration ; in the details of his moral government 
among the nations, both in ancient and in modern times, which 
may be collected from the writings of historians, vo}~agers, 
travellers, and missionaries; in the economy of the inferior 
tribes of animated beings; in the diversified scenery of nature 
around us in our terrestrial system; and in the sublime move- 
ments that are going forward, among distant worlds, in the 
Armament of his power: for, the more we know of the mani- 
festations of the Creator, the more acquaintance shall we have 
of the Creator himself; and, in proportion as our knowledge 
of his character is enlarged, in a similar proportion will our 
love be ardent and expansive. Such extensive views and con- 
templations are indispensably requisite, in order to a full re- 
cognition of the divine injunction : 44 Thou shalt love the Lord 
thy God with all thy hearty and with all thy strength, and with 
all thine understanding" This Is the first and the great cam- 
4nandment. 



CHAPTER II 



SECOND PRINCIPLE OF MORAL ACTION LOVE TO ALL SUB- 
ORDINATE INTELLIGENCES. 



In the commencement of the last chapter, I had occasion to 
remark that, strictly speaking, the fundamental principle or 
affection which gives birth to all the ramifications of moral 
action, is but one, namely, Love. This noble affection may 
be considered as dividing itself into two great streams, one di- 
recting its course towards the Creator, as the Supreme source 
of all felicity, and the other expanding itself towards all the 
intellectual beings which he has formed. 

Having, in the preceding pages, endeavoured to illustrate 
the foundation and the reasonableness of the principle of love 
to God, from a consideration of his perfections, character, and 
relations, and having described some of those kindred affec- 
tions by which its existence in the minds of moral agents is 
manifested, — I shall now endeavour to exhibit the foundation, 
and the reasonableness, of that modification of love which is 
directed towards created intelligences, and which may be 
termed the second principle of moral action — thou shalt 
love thy neighbour as thyself. Taking it for granted 
that this is the fundamental law prescribed by the Creator for 
regulating the conduct of intelligent beings towards each other 
— because the Supreme Lawgiver has proclaimed it as such 
in the revelation which he has given us of his will — I shall 
endeavour to exhibit the reasonableness and the beauty of this 
amiable principle — from the nature of man, and the relations 
in which all the individuals of the human race stand to each 
other — from the happiness which would flow from the uniform 
operation of this principle — and from the misery which would 
inevitably ensue were it completely eradicated from the minds 
of moral agents. 

Before proceeding to the illustration of these particulars, it 
may be proper to remark, that by "our neighbour" is to be 
understood men of every nation and of every clime, whether 
they avow themselves as our friends or our enemies, and what- 
ever may he their language, their religion, their rank, or sta~ 
tion. The inhabitants of New Zealand, of Patagonia, of New 
Holland, of the Ladrones, of Kamtschatka, or of Greenland 



LOVE TO OUR NEIGHBOUR. 



8S 



are our neighbours, in the sense intended in the divine injunc 
tion above quoted, as well as those who reside in our own na 
tion and in our more immediate neighbourhood. For with all 
these, and other tribes of mankind, we may happen to have 
intercourses, either directly or indirectly, and towards them all 
we ought to exercise an affection analogous to that which every 
man exercises towards himself. This we are decisively taught 
' Saviour in the narable of the good Samaritan, in which 

it is clearly shown, that under the ae»,p? tion of ne ^}^l 
we are to include even our bitterest enemies. Xiis ii.po!?*ic;j» 
avowed the same sentiment, and taught, that in the bonds of 
Christian love, no distinction should exist between 44 Jews and 
Greeks, Barbarians, Scythians, bond or free." For they are 
all members of the great family of God, and recognized as 
children by the universal parent. 



SECTION I. 

The Natural Equality of Mankind considered as the basis of 
Love to our Neighbour, 

I shall now exhibit a few considerations founded on the 
Natural Equality of Mankind, in order to evince the reason- 
ableness and the necessity of the operation of the principle of 
love towards all our fellow-men. 

In the first place, men of whatever rank, kindred, or tribe, 
are the offspring of the great Parent of the universe. They 
were all created by the same Almighty being, and to him they 
are indebted for all the members and (unctions of their animal 
frames, and for those powers, capacities, and endowments, 
which render them superior to the clods of the valley and to 
the beasts of the forest. They derived their origin too, as to 
their bodies, from the same physical principles and from the 
same earthly parent. 44 Of the dust of the ground" the body 
of the first man was formed ; and from Adam, the primogeni- 
tor of the human race, have descendrd all the generations of 
men which now exist, or will hereafter exist till the close of 
time. This is equally true of the prince and of his subjects ; 
of the monarch arrayed in purple, and seated on a throne, and 
of the beggar, who is clothed in rags, and embraces a dunghill; 
of the proud nobleman, who boasts of a long line of illustrious 
ancestors, and of the obscure peasant, whose progenitors were 
unnoticed and unknown. All derived their origin from the 



62 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



dust, and all return to the dust again. This consideration, on 
which it is unnecessary to dwell, shows the reasonableness of 
union and affection among men, on the same grounds from 
which we conclude that brothers and sisters belonging to the 
same family ought to manifest a friendly affection for each 
other. 

Secondly, men of all nations and ranks are equal in respec 
to the mechanism of their bodies and the mental faculties with 
which they are endowed. Whether their bodies be rudely 
covered with the skins of beasts, or adorned with the splen- 
dours of royalty; whether they be exposed naked to the 
scorching heats and piercing colds, or arrayed in robes of silk 
and crimson — in their construction and symmetry they equally 
bear the impress of infinite wisdom and omnipotence. The 
body of the meanest peasant, who earns his scanty subsistence 
from day to day by the sweat of his brow, is equally admira- 
ble, in the motions of its fingers, the structure of its limbs, and 
the connexion and uses of its several functions, as the body of 
the mightiest and the proudest baron who looks down upon him 
with contempt. The organs of vision comprise as many coats 
and humours, muscular fibres, and lymphatic ducts, and form 
as delicate pictures upon the retina — the bones are equally 
numerous, and as accurately articulated — the muscles perform 
their functions with as great precision and facility — the lym- 
phatic and absorbent vessels are as numerous and incessant in 
their operations — and the heart impels the blood through a 
thousand veins and arteries with as great a degree of rapidity 
and of purity in the corporeal frame of a poor African slave, 
who is daily smarting under the lash of an unfeeling planter, 
as in the body of the Emperor of China, who sways his sceptre 
over half the inhabitants of the globe. All the external trap- 
pings which fascinate the vulgar eye, and by which the various 
ranks of mankind are distinguished, are merely adventitious, 
and have no necessary connexion with the intrinsic dignity 
of man. They are part of the consequences of the depravity 
of our species : in most instances they are the results of vanity, 
folly, pride, and frivolity; and they constitute no essential 
distinction between man and man; for a few paltry guineas 
would suffice to deck the son of a peasant with all the orna- 
ments of a peer. 

Men are also nearly on a level in respect to the mental 
faculties which they possess. Every man, however low his 
station in the present world, is endowed with a spiritual prin- 
ciple which he received by " the inspiration of the Almighty, n 
which is superior ^ *H the me^hani^m and modifications of 



EQUALITY OF MANKIND* 



83 



matter, and by which he is allied to beings of a superior order* 
The faculties of consciousness, perception, memory, concep* 
tion, imagination, judgment, reasoning, and moral feeling, are 
common to men of all casts and nations. The power of re- 
collecting the past, and of anticipating the future — of deducing 
conclusions from premises previously demonstrated — of repre- 
senting to the mind objects and scenes which have long ceased 
to exist; of forming in the imagination new combinations of 
the objects of sense; of perceiving the qualities of moral ac- 
tions, and distinguishing between right and wrong ; of recog- 
nizing a supreme intelligent Agent in the movements of the 
universe, and of making perpetual advances in knowledge and 
felicity; faculties which distinguish man from all the other 
tribes which people the earth, air, or sea, are possessed by 
the dwarfish Laplander and the untutored peasant, as well as 
by the ruler of kingdoms, the enlightened statesman, and the 
man of science. It is true, indeed, that there is a mighty dif- 
ference among men in the direction of these faculties, in the 
objects towards which they are directed, in the cultivation they 
have received, and in the degree of perfection to which they 
have attained. There are innumerable gradations in the im- 
provement and the energies of intellect, from the narrow range 
of thought possessed by a Greenlander or an Esquimaux, to 
the sublime and expansive views of a Bacon or a NeiDton, 
But, this difference depends more on the physical and moral 
circumstances in which they are placed than on any intrinsic 
difference in the faculties themselves. Place the son of a boor 
or of a Laplander in circumstances favourable to the develope- 
ment of his mental powers, and afford him the requisite means 
for directing and increasing their activity, and he will display 
powers of intelligence equal to those which are found in the 
highest ranks of civilized life. A sound understanding, a cor- 
rect judgment, vigour of mind, control over the irascible pas- 
sions, and other mental endowments, though destitute of 
polish, will as frequently be found in the lower walks of life 
as in the elevated ranks of opulence and power. 

The philosopher, however, as well as the man of rank, is apt 
to look down with a contemptuous sneer on the narrow con- 
ceptions of the husbandman, the mechanic, and the peasant; 
and is disposed to treat them as if they were an inferior spe- 
cies of intelligent beings. He does not always consider that 
the profound and the subtle speculations, which are dignified 
^ ' h the title of philosophy are frequently of less importance 
to the progress of the human mind, and to the enjoyment of 
substantial comfort, than the deductions of common sense and 



si 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



the dictates of a sound, though plain understanding; that they 
torment him with feelings, doubts, and perplexities, which 
sometimes shake the whole fabric of his knowledge, and lead 
him into labyrinths, out of which he can scarcely extricate his 
way; while the man of plain understanding, guided by a few 
certain and important points of truth, prosecutes the path of 
virtue with safety and success. For it may be considered as 
an established maxim, that the most interesting and salutary 
truths connected with the happiness of man are neither nume- 
rous nor difficult to be acquired, and are level to the compre- 
hension of men of every nation and of every rank. But how- 
ever grovelling may be the affections, and however limited 
the intellectual views of the untutored ranks of society, they 
are capable of being trained to the knowledge and the prac- 
tice of every thing which regards their present comfort and 
their future happiness ; and to devise and execute the means 
by which this object may be accomplished, is one way among 
many others by which our love to mankind should be displayed 
and demonstrated. We have no reason to complain of the 
want of mental energy, or of the ignorance and folly of the 
lower orders of mankind, and to despise them on this account, 
while we sit still in criminal apathy, and refuse to apply those 
means which are requisite to raise them from their state of 
moral and intellectual degradation. 

Thirdly, mankind are on an equality, in respect of that 
moral depravity with which they are all infected. From what- 
ever cause it may be conceived to have originated, the fact is 
certain, that a moral disease has spread itself through all the 
branches of the human family, in whatever station, or in what- 
ever regions of the globe they may be placed. Whether we 
look back on the 44 generations of old," or survey the moral 
state of the nations in modern times; whether we turn our 
eyes to the abodes of savage or of civilized life ; whether we 
contemplate the characters of the higher orders of society, or 
the practices which abound among the inferior ranks of social 
life; the stamp of depravity, in one shape or another, appears 
impressed upon the general conduct of mankind. In the case 
of nations, this depravity has manifested itself in those wars, 
dissensions, devastations, and contentions for territory and 
power, which have in all ages convulsed the human race and 
disturbed the peace of the world. Among lesser societies, 
families and, individuals, it is displayed in the operation of the 
principles of pride, ambition, tyranny, persecution, revenge, 
malice, envy, falsehood, deceit, covetousness, anger, and other 
malignant passions, which have infested all ranks and condt- 



EQUALITY OF MANKIND. 



86 



tr ns of men. This depravity infects the higher ranks of man- 
kind equally with the lower, though among the former it is 
sometimes varnished over with a fairer exterior; and there- 
fore, there is no rank or order of men that have any valid rea- 
son on this ground for despising their fellow-creatures, or 
withholding from them the exercise of love and affection. 
For "there is none righteous, no, not one: for all have sinned, 
and come short of the glory of God." And in this point of 
view, love ought to exercise its beneficent energies, in endea- 
vouring to counteract the stream of human corruption, and in 
disseminating those divine principles which are calculated to 
raise mankind to the moral dignity of their nature. 

Fourthly, Mankind possess substantially the same pleasures 
and enjoyments, It is a trite saying, but it is nevertheless a 
true and important one, that happiness does not depend upon 
the rank and stations we occupy in life, nor upon the quantity 
of wealth or riches we possess. The pleasures which flow 
from the movements of the system of nature, and from the 
beauties which adorn the heavens and the earth, are common 
and open to all the inhabitants of the globe. The rising sun, 
the smiling day, the flowery landscape, the purling streams, 
the lofty mountains, the fertile vales, the verdure of the mea- 
dows, the ruddy hues of the evening clouds, the rainbow adorned 
with all the colours of light, the coruscations of the northern 
lights, the music of the groves, the songs of the nightingale 
and the lark, the breath of spring, the fruits of harvest, the azure 
sky, the blazing comet, the planets in their courses, the moon 
walking in brightness, and the radiant host of stars, convey to 
the mind thousands of delightful images and sensations, which 
charm the cottager and the mechanic no less than the sons of 
opulence and fame. The pleasures of the senses, of eating 
and drinking, of affectionate friendship, of social and domestic 
intercourse, of a cheerful contented mind, of fervent piety to- 
wards God, and of the hope of immortality beyond the grave, 
may be enjoyed by men of every colour, and rank, and condition 
in life ; by the inhabitant of the cottage, as well as by the po- 
tentate who sways his sceptre over kingdoms. Nor does it 
materially detract from these enjoyments in the case of the 
peasant, that his body is frequently hung with rags, that he 
subsists on the coarsest fare, and reposes under the thatch of 
a miserable hut. For habit is the great leveller of mankind; 
it reconciles us to innumerable inconveniences and privations, 
and blunts the edge of the keenest pleasures. The owner of 
a princely mansion frequently loathes the most delicious dain- 
ties on his table, and walks through his magnificent apartments, 

8 



86 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



surrounded with paintings and decorations, with as much apa- 
thy and indifference as if he were in an Indian wigwam or a 
clay-built cottage. So that, in the pleasures of sense, of affec- 
tion, and sentiment, there is no essential distinction between 
the high and the low, the rich and the poor. But should it 
be insinuated that the poor and the ignoble have fewer enjoy- 
ments than the rich, then it will follow, that towards them in 
a particular manner our benevolent affections ought to be di- 
rected, in order that they may enjoy a competent portion of 
those physical and intellectual pleasures which the Creator 
has provided for all his creatures. 

Fifthly, Men in every condition and in every clime have the 
same wants, and are exposed to the same disasters and afflic- 
tions. Hunger and thirst, cold and heat, motion and rest, are 
common to all orders and conditions of men ; and in order to 
supply and alleviate such wants, the aid of our ftllow-men is 
indispensably requisite, to enable us to obtain food, reinvent, 
light, warmth, comfortable accommodation, and shekel from 
the blasts of the tempest. We all stand in need of comfort 
and advice in the hour of difficulty and danger; we all long 
for the love, and friendship, and good offices of those around 
us ; and we all thirst for an increase of knowledge, happiness, 
and joy. And those wants and desires can be supplied and 
gratified onlv by the kindly intercourse and affection of kin- 
dred spirits. 

All are exposed to the same sorrows and afflictions. Dis- 
appointments, anxiety, disgrace, accidents, pain, sickness, dis- 
ease, loss of health, fortune, and honour, bereavement of chil- 
dren, friends, and relatives, are equally the lot of the prince 
and the peasant. The prince in the cradle is a being as weak 
and feeble, as dependent on his nurse, has as many wants to 
be supplied, is liable to as many diseases and accidents, and 
requires as many exertions to learn to lisp, to speak, and to 
walk, as the newborn babe of his meanest subject. Nay, the 
rich and the powerful are frequently exposed to miseries and 
vexations from fancied insults, affronts, and provocations, from 
frustrated hopes, from pride, vanity, and ill-humour, from abor- 
tive projects and disconcerted plans, to which the poor are 
generally strangers. If we enter into one of the abodes of 
poverty, where one of the victims of disease is reclining, we 
may behold a poor emaciated mortal, with haggard looks and 
a heaving breast, reposing on a pillow of straw, surrounded by 
ragged children and an affectionate wife, all eager to soothe 
his sorrows and alleviate his distress. If we pass through a 
crowd of domes :ics and courtly attendants into the mansion o»f 



EQUALITY OF MANKIND. 



. pulence, where disease or the harbinger of death has seized 
une of its victims, we may also behold a wretch, pale, blotched, 
and distorted, agonizing under the pain of the asthma, the 
gravel, or the gout, and trembling under the apprehensions of 
the solemnity of a future judgment, without one sincere friend 
to afford him a drop of consolation. Neither the splendour of 
his apartment, nor the costly crimson with which his couch is 
hung, nor the attentions of his physicians, nor the number of 
his attendants, can prevent the bitter taste of nauseous medi- 
cines, the intolerable pains, the misgivings of heart, and the 
pangs of conscience which he feels in common with the mean- 
est wretch who is expiring on a dunghill. 

Lastly, All ranks come to the same termination of their mor- 
tal existence. " Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt re- 
turn," is a decree which has gone forth against every inhabit- 
ant of our globe, of whatever kindred, rank, or nation. The 
tombs of mighty princes, of intrepid generals, of illustrious 
statesmen, may be adorned with lofty columns* with sculptured 
marble, and flattering inscriptions ; but within these varnished 
monuments their bodies present putrid carcases, as loathsome, 
and as much the prey of worms and corruption, as the corpse 
of their meanest vassal. Their eyes are equally impenetrable 
to the light of day, their ears are equally deaf to the charms 
of music, and their tongues are equally silent in this land of 
deep forgetfulness. This consideration of itself fully demon- 
strates, if any demonstration be necessary, the natural equality 
of mankind, and that there is no essential difference between 
the noble and the ignoble, the emperor, and the slave. And 
since mankind are all equally liable to afflictions and distresses, 
and are all journeying to the tomb, nothing can be more rea- 
sonable than the exercise of love, with all its kindred affections, 
towards every class of our fellow-men, in order to alleviate 
their sorrows, and to cheer them on their passage through this 
region of mortality. 

Thus it appears, that there is a natural equality subsisting 
among mankind, in respect of their origin, their corporeal or- 
ganization, their intellectual powers, their moral depravity, 
their wants, their afflictions, their pleasures, and enjoyments, 
and the state to which they are reduced after they have finished 
the career of their mortal existence. The illustration of such 
circumstances would be quite unnecessary, were it not that a 
certain proportion of mankind, under the influence of pride 
and other malignant passions are still disposed to look down 
on certain classes of their fellow-mortals as if they were a 
species of beings of an inferior order in the scale of existence. 



8S 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



To the propriety of the sentiments now stated, the sacred 
Scriptures bear ample testimony. " The rich and the poor 
meet together; the Lord is the maker of them all."* "Did 
not he that made me in the womb make my servant, and did 
he not fashion us alike?"! " God hath made of one blood all 
nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath 
determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their 
habitation."^ 

Since, therefore, it appears, that mankind are equal in every 
thing that is essential to the human character, this equality 
lays a broad foundation for the exercise of universal love 
towards men of all nations, tribes, conditions, and ranks. It 
must, obviously appear contrary to every principle of reason, 
repugnant to every amiable feeling, and inconsistent with the 
general happiness of the species, that intelligent beings, who 
are all children of the same Almighty Parent, members of the 
same great family, and linked together by so many fraternal 
ties, should " bite and devour one another," engage in hostile 
enterprizes against each other, look down with scorn and con- 
tempt on each other, or even behold with indifference the con- 
dition of the meanest member of the family to which they be- 
long. On the other hand, it is consistent with the dictates of 
enlightened reason, congenial to the best feelings of human 
nature, and indispensably requisite to the promotion of uni- 
versal happiness, that such beings should be united in the 
bonds of affection and harmony, that they should sympathize 
with the distressed, delight in beholding the happiness of all, 
"rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that 
v/eep; — that every one, whether he be near or far off, whether 
he be rich or poor, whether he be learned or unlearned, whe- 
ther he belong to this or the other civil or religious society, 
whether his colour be black or white, whether he be blind, or 
deaf, or lame, whether he be an inhabitant of Greenland, Ice- 
land, Barbary, Germany, France, or Spain, whatever may be 
his language, manners, or customs, should be recognized, 
wherever he maybe found, as a friend and brother; and a cor- 
dial interest felt in every thing that concerns his welfare and 
comfort. Such a recognition of man as man, is a duty which 
necessarily flows from the natural equality of mankind, and is 
congenial to the conduct of the Universal Parent towards all 
his human offspring. For, in his love to his numerous family, 
and without respect of persons, he makes the same vital air 
to give play to their lungs, the same sun to cheer and enlighten 



* Prov. xxii, 2. 



t Job xxxi. 15. 



} Acts xvii. 26. 



RELATIONS OF MANKIND. 



them, and the same rains and dews to refresh their fields, and 
to ripen the fruits of harvest. 

Let it not, however, be inferred, from what has been now 
stated, that we mean to sap the foundations of that subordina- 
tion of ranks which exists in this world.- This gradation in 
society is the appointment of God, and necessarily flows from 
the circumstances and relations in which man is placed in this 
first stage of his existence; and, were it completely over- 
thrown, society would be plunged into a scene of anarchy and 
confusion; and the greater part of the individuals which com- 
pose it, would become a lawless banditti. Whether or not 
there exists a subordination of office and rank among superior 
intelligences of the same species, or among the inhabitants of 
other globes, we are unable at present to determine ; but in 
*he actual condition of society in the world in which we dwell, 
a state of complete independence, and a perfect equality ot 
wealth, station, and rank, are impossible, so long as there ex- 
ists a diversity in the capacities, tempers, and pursuits of men. 
On the diversity of rank, and the relations which subsist be- 
tween the different classes of society, as parents and children, 
masters and servants, princes and subjects, is founded a great 
proportion of those moral laws which God hath promulgated 
in his word, for regulating the inclinations and the conduct of 
mankind. 

Diversity of fortune and station appears absolutely inevitable 
in a world where moral evil exists, and where its inhabitants 
are exposed to dangers, difficulties, and distress. Whether the 
inhabitants of a world, where moral perfection reigns trium- 
phant, can exist in a state of perfect felicity, and move forward 
in progressive improvement, without a subordination of rank, 
it is not for us to determine. But in such a world as ours, it 
is a wise and gracious appointment of the Creator, and is at- 
tended with many and important advantages. Were there no 
diversity of wealth and station, we should be deprived of many 
of the comforts, con veniences, and assistances which Ave now 
enjoy. Every one would be obliged to provide for himself 
food, drink, clothing, furniture, shelter, medicines, and recre- 
ations ; and in the season of sickness, danger, and distress, he 
would have few or none to alleviate his affliction, and contri- 
bute to his comfort. But, in consequence of the diversity which 
now exists, an opportunity is afforded' of employing the 
several capacities and endowments of mankind in those lines 
of active exertion, for which they are respectively fitted, and 
of rendering them subservient for the improvement and hap-, 
piness of general society . One exercises the trade of a weaver,, 



90 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION, 



another that of a baker; one is a shoemaker, another a tailoi ; 
one is an architect, another a farmer; one is a teacher of 
science or religion; others have their minds entertained and 
improved by his instructions. One is appointed a ruler over 
a city, another over a kingdom ; one is employed in writing for 
the amusement and instruction of mankind, another is employ- 
ed in printing and publishing his writings. By this arrange- 
ment, the powers and capacities in which individuals excel, 
are gradually carried to the highest degree of attainable per- 
fection ; and the exertions of a single individual are rendered 
subservient to the ease, the convenience, and the mental im- 
provement of thousands. 

It is not to the diversity of rank and station, that the evils 
which exist among the various classes of society are to be at- 
tributed ; but to the influence of a spirit of pride, on the one 
hand, and a spirit of insubordination on the other — to the want 
of a disposition to discharge the duties peculiar to each station, 
and to the deficiency of those kindly affections which ought 
to be manifested towards every human being, by men in all 
the ranks and departments of life. If love, in all its benevolent 
ramiiications, were to pervade the various ranks of social life, 
kings would never oppress their subjects, nor masters act un- 
justly towards their servants; nor would subjects and servants 
refuse to submit to just laws, and equitable regulations. All 
would act their parts with harmony and delight in this great 
moral machine, and every station and rank would contribute, 
in its sphere, to the prosperity and happiness of another. For 
the poor cannot do without the rich, nor the rich without the 
poor; the prince without his subjects, nor subjects without 
wise and enlightened rulers, and equitable laws. All are link- 
ed together by innumerable ties ; and the recognition of these 
ties, and the practice of the reciprocal duties which arise out 
of them, form the source of individual happiness, and the 
bonds of social enjoyment, 



SECTION II. 

The connexions and relations which subsist among mankind 
considered as establishing the basis of Love to our neighbour, 

The relations which subsist among mankind, lay a founda- 
tion for the exercise of the benevolent affections, and for the 



RELATIONS OF MANKIND. 



91 



various duties of social life ; and these relations are far more 
numerous and extensive than the generality of mankind are 
disposed to admit. The relations of parents and children, of 
husbands and wives, of brethren and sisters, of masters and 
servants, of rulers and subjects, of teachers and scholars, of 
buyers and sellers, &c. are recognized by all as involving an 
obligation to the exercise of certain corresponding duties and 
affections. The moment we contemplate the relation of a 
parent and a child, we at once perceive the obligation of love 
on the part of the parent, and of reverence and obedience on 
the part of the child; and, in every other relation, a corres- 
ponding duty is involved, resulting from the nature of that re- 
lation, and founded on the principle of love. But as these re- 
lations, and their corresponding duties and affections have been 
frequently illustrated, I shall advert to a variety of circum- 
stances, generally overlooked, which demonstrate the univer- 
sal connexion of human beings with each other, and the 
reasonableness of the exercise of love towards all mankind. 

Wherever we turn our eyes towards the great family of man- 
kind — whether we look around on the land of our nativity, or 
to distant continents, and the oceans which surround them, we 
behold thousands of human beings toiling for our ease, our con- 
venience, our pleasure, and improvement. Here, we behold 
the ploughman turning up the furrows of the soil, and the 
sower casting in the seed which is to produce the fruits of 
harvest: there, we behold the reaper cutting down the corn 
which is to serve for our nourishment. On the one hand, we 
behold the cow-herd tending his cattle, which are to afford us 
milk, butter, and cheese; on the other, we behold the shep- 
herd tending his flocks, whose wool is to provide us with warm 
and comfortable clothing. One is preparing leather from the 
hides of oxen, another is shaping it into shoes and boots. One 
is spinning flax and cotton into yarn, another is weaving it in- 
to linen and muslin, to cover and adorn us. One is dressing 
the vine, whose juice is to cheer and refresh us; another is 
treading the wine-press, and preparing the wine for our use. 
Here, we behold the blacksmith toiling and sweating at the 
anvil, preparing tongs, and shovels, and grates, for our apart- 
ments ; there, we behold the carpenter, with his hammer, and 
plane, and saw, fitting up beds, and tables, and chairs, for our 
ease and accommodation. Here, one is preparing our food, 
and another our clothing; there, one is preparing our drink, 
and another our medicines. In one chamber, the student of 
nature and of science is preparing, at the midnight lamp, those 
compositions which are to convey entertainment and instruo 



92 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELTGlOS. 



tion to the minds of the public; in another, the herald of sal- 
vation is meditating on those divine subjects, which he is 
about to proclaim for the illumination and comfort of assem- 
bled multitudes. In short, to whatever department of humaD 
society we direct our attention, and to whatever quarter we 
turn our eyes, in the busy scene around us, we behold thou- 
sands of our fellow-men exerting their corporeal and intellec- 
tual powers in those employments which will ultimately con- 
tribute either to our ease, our entertainment, our security, our 
accommodation, our subsistence, or our moral and intellectual 
improvement. 

But, our connexions with human beings are not confined to 
our immediate neighbourhood, nor even to the nation in which 
we reside. There is scarcely a region of the globe towards 
which we can direct our view, in which we do not behold in- 
numerable links which connect us with the great family of man- 
kind. Let us turn our eyes to the West-India islands, and we 
shall behold the poor African slave toiling under the scorching 
heat of a tropical sun, and smarting under the cruel lash of an 
unfeeling overseer, in order to provide for us sugar, molasses, 
and rice, to mingle with our dainties, and to regale our appe- 
tites. If we direct our view to the empire of China, on the 
opposite side of the globe; twelve thousand miles distant 
from the former region; we shall behold thousands and tens 
of thousands of our brethren of the human family busily em- 
ployed in planting the tea tree, in plucking its leaves, in ex- 
posing them to the steam of boiling water, in spreading them 
out to dry, in assorting them into different parcels, in packing 
and shipping them off for distant shores, that we, at a distance 
of nine thousand miles, may enjoy a delicious beverage for our 
morning and evening meals. * If we turn our eyes on India 
and Persia, we shall find multitudes of men, women, and chil- 
dren assiduously employed in cultivating the mulberry plant, 
in hatching and rearing silk-worms, in winding and twisting 
the delicate threads which proceed from these insects, and pre- 
paring them for the loom, in order that our ladies may be 

* For a portion of this beverage we are indebted even to some of the 
monkey tribe. As the tea shrub often grows on the rugged banks of 
steep mountains, access to which is dangerous, and sometimes impracti- 
cable, the Chinese, in order 10 come at the leaves, make use of a singular 
stratagem. These steep places are generally frequented by great num- 
bers of monkeys, which, being irritated and provoked, to avenge them^ 
selves, tearoff the branches, and shower them down upon those who have 
insulted them. The Chinese immediately collect these branches and 
strip off their leaves. — En^y. Brit. Art. Tea.. 



RELATIONS OF MANKIND. 



93 



adorned with this finest production of nature and art. Let us 
pass in imagination to the frozen regions of Siberia and Kamt- 
schatka, to the inhospitable shores of Onalaska and the Aleu- 
tian isles, and we shall behold numbers of weather-beaten 
wretches exposed to innumerable dangers by sea and land, 
traversing snowy mountains, forests, marshes, and deserts, 
suffering frequent shipwrecks on the coasts of unknown islands 
inhabited by savage tribes, and exposed, night and day, to the 
chilling frosts of the polar region, and the attacks of ravenous 
wolves, in order to collect the skins of otters, and furs of va- 
rious descriptions, to adorn the dress of our female friends, and 
to shelter them from the winter's cold. Let us pass to the 
forests of Norway, S weden> Canada, and Jamaica, and hundreds 
of hardy, weather-beaten peasants, exposed to many accidents 
and privations, will be seen cutting down the tall firs, larches, 
and mahogany, sawing them into planks and logs, and con- 
veying them in floats along rapid rivers towards the sea, to be 
shipped for our country, for the purpose of being formed into 
floors and roofs for our buildings, and into elegant furniture to 
decorate our apartments. 

Not only in distant islands and continents, but even in the 
midst of the vast ocean, multitudes of our brethren are toiling 
for otir pleasure, convenience, and comfort. See yonder ves- 
sel in the Southern Atlantic ocean, which has just weathered 
the storms on the southern cape of Africa, and narrowly es- 
caped the dangers of shipwreck on a rocky shore. For se- 
veral weeks the hardy mariners have been beating against the 
wind in the midst of thunders, lightnings, and tempests,, with 
mountainous waves continually breaking over them, darkness 
surrounding them for many sleepless nights, and the dread of 
impending destruction filling them with trembling and horror. 
And why have they been exposed to danger so dreadful and 
appalling? That they might convey to our shores, from China 
and Hindostan, stores of tea, coffee, sugar, porcelain, silks, 
carpets, and precious stones, to supply luxuries to our tables, 
and ornaments to our dress. See yonder vessel, too, which 
is tossing in the midst of the Northern ocean, passing between 
shoals and icebergs, and liable every moment to be crushed 
to pieces between mountains of ice. Her mariners have long 
been exposed to the rigours of an arctic sky, and have nar- 
rowly escaped being plunged into the deep by the stroke of an 
enormous whale, in order that we might be supplied with seal- 
skins, whale-bone, and oil for our lamps. 

Even in the bowels of the ocean thousands of poor wretches, 
on the coast of California, Ceylon, Persia, and China, are 



94 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



diving amidst its waves, remaining whole half hours, at sixty 
feet below the surface of its waters, exposed to the danger of 
being devoured by sharks and other monsters of the deep, in 
order to collect pearls for ornaments to the ladies of Europe, 
Asia, Africa, and America. — In short, wherever we turn our 
eyes on the surface of the mighty deep, we contemplate a busy 
scene of human beings ploughing the ocean in every direction, 
and toiling, in the midst of dangers, storms, and tempests, in 
order to promote the accommodation of their fellow-mortals, 
who dwell on opposite regions of the globe. On the one 
hand, we behold thousands of hardy Russians, Swedes, and 
Norwegians, steering their vessels along the Baltic and the 
Germap; sea, to convey to our shores copper, timber, pitch, 
skins, hemp, and tallow ; on the other, we behold the Ameri- 
cans ploughing the waves of the Atlantic, with stores of ma- 
hogany, sugar, rice, flour, tobacco, rum, and brandy. Along 
the vast Pacific ocean, the Spanish galleons are conveying to 
Europe, gold, silver, pearls, precious stones, and all the other 
riches of Peru. Even from the southern icy ocean, where na- 
ture appears bound in the fetters of eternal ice, the adventur- 
ous mariner is conveying to our shores furs of various kinds, 
with the products of seals and whales. A.nd, in return for the 
supply we receive from foreign regions, our British sailors are 
traversing every sea and ocean, and distributing to the inhabi- 
tants of every clime, the productions of our arts, sciences, and 
manufactures. 

Even in the subterraneous apartments of the globe, as well 
as upon its surface, many thousands of human beings are la- 
bouring, in confined and gloomy regions, to promote our com- 
forts and enjoyments. The copper mines in Sweden are 
situated at more than a thousand feet below the surface of the 
ground, and contain a vast number of subterraneous apart- 
ments, branching in all directions. In these dreary abodes, 
twelve hundred wretched beings are doomed to pass their ex- 
istence, deprived of the cheerful light of day — toiling, almost 
naked, in the midst of hot and sulphureous vapours, and under 
severe taskmasters, in order that we may be supplied with the 
best species of copper, for forming our kettles, cauldrons, and 
copper-plate engravings. The salt mines of Hungary and 
Poland, the gold and silver mines of Potosi and Peru, and 
hundreds of similar subterraneous mansions, in various parts 
of the earth, present to our view numerous groups of our fel- 
low-men, all engaged in similar toils and labours, in order that 
we may enjoy the riches, the elegancies, and the conveniences 
pf life. In our own country, how many thousands of our 



RELATIONS OF MANKIND. 



95 



brethren are labouring in the dark recesses of the earth, far 
beneath its surface, exposed to the suffocation of the choke- 
damp and the explosions of the fire-damp, in procuring for us 
that invaluable fossil, which warms and cheers our winter 
apartments, which cooks our victuals, and enables us to carry 
on the various processes of our arts and manufactories ! 

Thus it appears, that we are connected with our fellow-men, 
in every quarter of the world, by thousands of ties; — that mil- 
lions of human beings, whom we have never seen, nor ever 
will see on this side the grave, are labouring to promote our 
interests, without whose exertions we should be deprived of 
the greatest proportion of our accommodations and enjoy- 
ments. While we are sitting in our comfortable apartments 
feasting on the bounties of Providence, thousands, and ten 
thousands of our brethren of mankind, in different regions of 
the globe, are assiduously labouring to procure for us supplies 
for some future entertainment. One is sowing the seed, 
another gathering in the fruits of harvest; one is providing 
fuel and another furs and flannel, to guard us from the win- 
ter's cold; one is conveying home the luxuries and necessaries 
of life, another is bringing intelligence from our friends in 
distant lands; one is carrying grain to the mill, another is 
grinding it, and another is conveying it along the road to our 
habitations : one is in search of medicines to assuage our pains, 
and another is in search of consolation to soothe our wounded 
spirits. In the midst of these never-ceasing exertions, some 
are crossing deep and dangerous rivers, some are travers- 
ing a vast howling wilderness; some are wandering amidst 
swampy moors, and trackless heaths; some are parched 
with thirst in sandy deserts; some are shivering and benumbed 
amidst the blasts of winter; some are toiling along steep and 
dangerous roads, and others are tossing- in the midst of the 
ocean, buffeted by the winds and raging billows. 

And, since we are connected with our fellow-creatures by 
so many links, is it not reasonable, is it not congenial to the 
nature of man, that we should be connected with them by the 
ties of sympathy and benevolent affections ? It is true, indeed, 
that the various classes of mankind in every country, who are 
'oiling for our ease and gratification, seldom or never think of 
us in the midst of their difficulties and labours. Perhaps they 
have no other end in view than to earn their daily subsistence, 
and provide food and clothing for their families ; perhaps they 
are actuated by the most selfish motives, and by principles of 
vanity and avarice; and some of them, perhaps, under the in- 
fluence of that depravity which is common to the species, may 



96 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



be secretly cursing and reproaching us as individuals, or as a 
nation. But, from whatever motives their labours and exer- 
tions proceed, it is a fact which cannot be denied, and which 
they cannot prevent, that we actually enjoy the benefit of them; 
and, that, without them, we should be deprived of the greater 
part of those comforts and enjoyments which render existence 
desirable, and which cheer us in our pilgrimage to the grave. 

We have, therefore, in almost every artificial object that 
surrounds us, and in every enjoyment we possess from day 
to day, so many sensible emblems of our connexion with 
every branch of the great family of mankind. When we sit 
down to a dish of tea, we are reminded of the crowded and 
busy population of China, where this plant is produced, and 
of the poor African slave, through whose sorrows and toils the 
sugar we mix with it is prepared. And shall we not feel a 
kindly affection for those whose labours procure us such a re- 
freshing beverage? And should not our love prompt us to 
every active exertion by which their miseries may be allevi- 
ated, and their intellectual and religious improvement pro- 
moted? When we look at the pearls which adorn us, we are 
reminded of the poor wretch who has plunged to the bottom 
of the deep, and scrambled among projecting rocks, to the 
danger of his life, in order to procure them. When we look 
at a copper-plate engraving, we are reminded of the dark and 
cheerless recesses of the copper mines, where hundreds are 
employed in digging for this useful metal. When we enjoy 
the comfort of a cheerful fire, we are reminded of the gloomy 
subterraneous regions to which so many of our countrymen 
are confined, and the toils and dangers to which they are ex 
posed, before our coals can be dragged from the bowels of the 
earth. And while we feel delighted with the diversified en- 
joyment which flows from the labour and industry of every 
class of mankind, is it reasonable that we should look with in- 
difference on any one of them? Is it not accordant with the 
dictates of enlightened reason, and with every thing that we 
consider as amiable in the nature of man, that we should em- 
brace them all in the arms of kindness and brotherly affection, 
and that our active powers, so far as our influence extends, 
should be employed in endeavouring to promote their present 
and everlasting happiness? At present, they seldom think 
about the benefits they are procuring for us and others by their 
useful labours; but were their circumstances meliorated, were 
their miseries relieved, were their minds expanded by instruc- 
tion, were their moral powers cultivated and improved, were 
they to behold the various branches of the human family for 



RELATIONS OF MANKIND 



97 



whom they are labouring, exerting every nerve to promote 
their moral improvement and domestic enjoyment, it would 
produce many pleasing emotions in their breasts, in the midst 
of all their toilsome labours, to reflect that their exertions are 
the means of distributing numerous comforts and conveniences 
among men of different nations, ranks, kindreds, and languages. 
Their minds would take a more extensive range among the 
various tribes of mankind with which they are connected, as 
intelligences of the same species ; they would learn to trace 
the remotest consequences of every branch of labour, and of 
every mechanical operation in which they are engaged, and 
they would thus feel themselves more intimately related to every 
individual of the great family to which they belong. 

That it is the intention of the Creator that an extensive and 
affectionate intercourse should be carried on between the re- 
motest tribes of mankind, appears even from the physical con- 
stitution and arrangement of our globe. The surface of the 
earth is every where indented with rivers of various dimen- 
sions, winding in every direction through the continents and 
the larger islands, and some of them running a course of seve- 
ral thousands of miles. In the eastern continent, above four 
hundred rivers of large dimensions are rolling from the moun- 
tains towards the sea; and in the western continent, more than 
one hundred and forty majestic streams are to be found, con- 
necting the highest and the remotest parts of the land with the 
ocean, besides thousands of streams of smaller dimensions. 
The water of the sea is formed of such a consistency, or spe- 
cific gravity, that it is capable of supporting large floating edi- 
fices ; while, at the same time, its parts are so yielding as to 
permit such vehicles to move with rapidity along its surface, 
through its waves and billows. In virtue of this arrangement, 
the ocean, instead of standing as an everlasting barrier between 
the nations, has become a medium for the most speedy inter- 
course between distant lands. The atmosphere which sur- 
rounds the globe, contributes likewise by its agency to pro- 
mote the same important end. By the impulsion of its differ- 
ent masses in various directions, our ships are wafted with con- 
siderable velocity along the surface of rivers, seas, and oceans, 
to the remotest extremities of the globe. By means of these 
arrangements which the Creator has established, the treasures 
of the mountains, and of the inland parts of the continents 
and islands, are conveyed towards the sea, and transported 
from one island and continent to another; and thus the various 
tribes of mankind have an opportunity of visiting each other, 
of cultivating an affectionate intercourse, and of contributing to 

9 



03 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



their mutual enjoyment. And as it is probable that there exist 
in nature certain powers or principles not yet discovered, the 
agency of which may be applied to the propelling of machines 
and vehicles over land and water, and through the regions of 
the atmosphere, with a velocity much superior to what has 
hitherto been effected ; — it appears evident, that the Creator, 
in forming such principles, and in permitting man to discover 
their nature and energies, intended that they should be applied 
for promoting a rapid and endearing intercourse among all the 
branches of that large family which he has placed upon the 
globe. And I have no doubt, that in the future ages of the 
world, by means of improvements in art and science, such 
intercourse will be carried on in the spirit of benevolence, to an 
extent and with a rapidity of which we cannot at present form 
any adequate conception. 

It appears, then, to be one great design of the Creator, in 
connecting mankind by so many links, and in rendering them 
dependent upon each other, though placed in opposite regions 
of the globe, to lay a broad foundation for the exercise of the 
benevolent affections between men of all nations, and ulti- 
mately to unite the whole human race in one harmonious and 
afTectionate society. And it is obviously the duty of every 
human being to cultivate those dispositions, and to prosecute 
that train of action which have a tendency to accomplish the 
plans of the Universal Parent, and to promote the happiness 
of his intelligent offspring. In so doing, he contributes to his 
own individual happiness, and at the same time to that of all 
the moral intelligences in heaven and earth with which he is 
connected. 



SECTION III. 

The ultimate destination of mankind considered as a basis for 
love to our neighbour, and as a motive to its exercise. 

The present world is not the ultimate destination of man- 
Kind. It is only a passing scene through which they are now 
travelling to that immortal existence which will have no ter- 
mination. Man is at present in the infancy of his being; his 
faculties are only beginning to expand, his moral powers are 
feeble and depraved, his intellectual views are circumscribed 
within a narrow range, and all the relations in which he stands 
demonstrate that the present scene is connected with the fu- 



DESTINATION OF MAN* 



99 



tare, and is introductory to a higher sphere of action and en- 
joyment. "We know," says the Apostle Paul, "that if this 
earthly house of our tabernacle were dissolved, we have a 
building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the 
heavens." And our Saviour declares, that "the hour is coming, 
in which all that are in their graves shall hear his voice, and 
shall come forth," and that "our vile bodies shall be changed, 
and fashioned like unto his glorious body," and shall enter into 
the enjoyment of a new world, "which is incorruptible, unde- 
nted, and which fadeth not away." * 
The capacity of making perpetual advances in knowledge 
and moral improvement in a future state of existence, is that 
in which the true dignity of man consists; and in this capacity, 
and the high destination with which it is connected, there is 
no difference between the high and the low, the slave who is 
chained to a galley, and the sovereign at whose nod the nations 
tremble. They are equally destined to immortality, and will 
exist in a future world*, when time and all the arrangements of 
the present state shall come to a close. If man were only the 
creature of a day, whose prospects are bounded by this terres- 
trial scene, and whose hopes terminate in the tomb, it might 
appear a matter of comparatively little importance whether or 
not our benevolent regards were extended to our fellow-men, 
except in so far as our self-interest and avarice were concerned. 
The happiness of a fellow-creature might then be considered 
as a matter of indifference, and his dissolution, at death, a cir- 
cumstance as trivial as the falling of a leaf in autumn, or the 
sinking of a stone to the bottom of the ocean. Even in this 
case, however, it would still be conducive to human happiness 
during the short and uncertain span of our existence, that all 
the branches of the human family were cemented together in 
union and affection. But when we reflect that all the intelli- 
gent beings around us, with whom we more immediately asso- 
ciate, and all those in distant lands with whom we are con 
nected by the ties of one common nature, and on whom we de- 
pend for many of our comforts, are destined along with our- 
selves to an eternal world in another region of the Creator's 
empire; and that the affections we now cultivate, and the con- 
duct we pursue in reference to our brethren, have an intimate 
relation to that immortal existence ;— this consideration stamps 
an importance on the exercise of brotherly affection which is - 
beyond the power of human language to express. It shows 
us, that the dispositions which we now indulge, and the manner 
in which we treat the meanest of our fellow-creatures, may be 
recognised and attended with the most important effects a 



100 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



thousand millions of years hence, and may run parallel in their 

consequences even with eternity itself. 

We may, perhaps, view it as a matter of trivial moment in 
what manner we now conduct ourselves towards a servant or 
a slave; whether we render his life miserable by hard labour, 
cruel insults, and contemptuous treatment, or study to promote 
his comfort and domestic enjoyment; whether we neglect to 
instruct him in the knowledge of his duty to his God and to his 
fellow-men, or labour to promote his moral and religious im- 
provement. We may view with indifference or contempt the 
person and the family of a poor pious neighbour, who has 
earned a scanty subsistence by the sweat of his brow, and may 
behold his body laid in the grave with as much apathy as we 
behold the carcass of a dog thrown into a pond. But could we 
follow the pious man beyond the precincts of the tomb, into 
that immortal scene which has burst upon his disencumbered 
spirit; could we trace the gradual expansion of his faculties 
towards objects which lie beyond the grasp of mortals and the 
perfection of his moral powers ; could we behold his moul- 
dered frame starting up to new life at "the resurrection of the 
just," and arrayed in new splendour and beauty; could we 
contemplate him placed in a station of dignity and honoui 
among "the sons of God," in that glorious residence to which 
he is destined ; his intellectual powers expanding, grasping 
the most sublime objects, and pushing forward in the career 
of perpetual improvement, without the least stain of moral 
imperfection ; — would we now treat such a one with malevo- 
lence, or even with indifference or neglect? And were we 
placed by his side in such a dignified station, what would oui 
feelings be when we recollected the apathy, the indifference, 
and even the contempt with which he was treated in this sub- 
lunary scene? On the other hand, could we follow the pooi 
wretched slave to the future world, and contemplate the de- 
gradation and misery to which he is there reduced in conse- 
quence of our malevolence and neglect, what emotions of horroi 
and indignation should we not feel at the recollection of that 
pride and disaffection which led us to act so basely towards a 
fellow-immortal, whom it was in our power to have trained to 
wisdom, to excellence, and to a happy immortality ? When, 
therefore, we behold individuals withholding their benevolent 
regard from their brethren of mankind, and treating them with 
haughtiness and contempt, we must conclude that such persons 
overlook the true dignity of man, and secretly disbelieve the 
reality of an immortal state of existence, whatever professions 
they may make to the contrary. For the consideration of the 



DESTINATION OF MAN. 



101 



eternal destiny of mankind reflects a dignity on the meanest 
human being, and attaches an importance to all our affections 
and actions in relation to him, unspeakably greater than if hi3 
existence were circumscribed within the narrow limits of time, 
and throws completely into the shade all the degrading cir- 
cumstances with which he is now surrounded. 

When we consider our brethren of the human family in the 
light of immortal intelligences, and look forward to the scenes 
of the eternal world, a crowd of interesting reflections natu- 
rally arises in the mind. A wide and unbounded prospect 
opens before us. Amidst new creations and the revolutions 
of systems and worlds, new displays of the Creator's power 
and providence burst upon the view. We behold ourselves 
placed on a theatre of action and enjoyment, and passing 
through " scenes and changes" which bear no resemblance to 
the transactions and events of this subiunary world. We be?- 
hold ourselves mingling with beings of a superior order, eulti^ 
vating nobler affections, and engaged in more sublime em- 
ployments than those which now occupy our attention. We 
behold ourselves associated with men of all nations and kin- 
dreds, and with those who lived in the remotest periods of 
time. Millions of years roll on after millions, our capacities 
and powers of intellect are still expanding, and new scenes of 
beauty and magnificence are perpetually bursting on the aston*- 
ished mind, without any prospect of a termination. Amidst 
those eternal scenes, we shall doubtless enter into the most 
intimate connexions with persons whom we have never seen, 
from whom we are now separated by continents and oceans, 
with those whose bodies are now mouldering in the dust, with 
those who have not yet entered on the stage of existence, and 
with those with whom we now refuse to associate on account 
of their rank, and station, and religious opinions. That man, 
into whose dwelling we would not at present deign to enter, 
and with whom we would abhor to mingle in the public ser- 
vices of religion, may then be one of our chief companions in 
the regions of bliss, in directing and expanding our views of 
the glory and magnificence of God. The man whom we now 
hate and despise, and whose offers of assistance we would treat 
with disdain, may in that happier world be a principal agent in 
opening to our view new sources of contemplation and delight 
That servant whom we now treat as a being of inferior spc 
cies, at whom we frown and scold with feelings of proud supe- 
riority* may be our instructor and director, and every way our 
superior in that region where earthly distinctions are unknown. 
That humble instructor whom we now despise, and %vhow 

9* 



102 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELTGIOW. 



sentiments we treat with contempt, may, in that world of in- 
telligence and love, be our teacher and our guide to direct our 
views of the attributes of the Deity, of the arrangements of 
his providence, and of the glories of his empire. There the 
prince may yield precedence to his subjects, the master to the 
slave^ and the peer to the humblest peasant. For no pre-emi- 
nence of birth, fortune, or learning, no excellence but that 
which is founded on holiness and virtue, on moral and intellec- 
tual endowments, will have any place in the arrangements of 
that world where human distinctions are forever abolished and 
unknown. And shall we now refuse to acknowledge those 
who are to be our friends and companions in that future world? 
Is it not agreeable to the dictates of reason and to the voice of 
God that we should regard them with complacency and affec- 
tion, whatever be the garb they now wear, whatever be their 
colour or features, and in whatever island or continent they 
may now reside ? 

It must, indeed, be admitted, that all the inhabitants of our 
world will not be exalted to dignity and happiness in the future 
state. A great proportion of them, in their present state of de- 
pravity and degradation, are altogether unqualified for partici- 
pating in the exercises and enjoyments of celestial intelligences. 
Whole nations are still overspread with intellectual darkness, 
ignorant of their eternal destination, and immersed in immorali- 
ties and vile abominations. And, even in those countries 
where the light of revelation has dispelled the gloom of hea- 
thenism, a vast mass of human beings are to be found, "having 
their understandings darkened, alienated from the life of God," 
and sunk into the mire of every moral pollution. Still, we 
have no reason, on this account, to overlook their native dig- 
nity, and their high destination. Every human being we see 
around us, however low in rank, or degraded by vice, is en- 
dowed with an immortal nature, and is capable of being raised 
to the dignity of an inhabitant of heaven ; and there is not a 
single individual to whom we can point, either in our own 
country or in other lands, in relation to whom we are authoriz- 
ed to affirm, that he will not be a participator in immortal 
hliss. And, therefore, every man with whom we associate, 
and whom we recognize in the circle of society around us, 
ought to be viewed as one with whom we may associate in the 
world to come. And as to those who appear to be partially 
-enlightened and renovated in their minds, we ought not to 
withhold our affection Bnd complacency on account of their 
ignorance-, their contracted views, or erroneous opinions. We 
should view them, not as they are in their present state of in- 



DESTINATION OF MAN. 



103 



fancy and weakness, but as they will be when arrived at ma 
turity and manhood ; not as they appear in the first weak es- 
says of their intellectual powers, and in the lowest step of their 
existence, but as they will appear in their career of improve- 
ment after a lapse of millions of ages. Carrying forward our 
views to those eternal scenes, and accompanying our brethren 
of the human family through all the gradations of their exist- 
ence in future worlds, we behold their faculties in progressive 
expansion, their minds approximating nearer to the source of 
eternal wisdom, their views of the empire of Omnipotence con- 
tinually enlarging, their knowledge of the plan of redemption, 
and its numerous bearings, forever increasing; their love and 
affection to God and to fellow intelligences waxing into a more 
ardent flame; every evil propensity corrected, every imper- 
fection removed, every blossom of virtue fully expanded, and 
"joy unspeakable and full of glory" pervading every faculty 
of their souls. And can we behold intelligent minds, capable 
of so high and dignified attainments, and the companions of 
our future destiny, with indifference or contempt? Is there 
not here a broad foundation laid for the most expansive ema- 
nations of love towards every member of the great family of 
mankind, however much he may be obscured, and sullied by 
folly and sin in this first stage of his existence? 

In the mean time, while the greater part of mankind are 
immersed in ignorance and vice, while the image of their Ma- 
ker is defaced, and their immortal powers prostituted to the 
vilest passions, the most noble and honourable operation in 
which love can be engaged, is to devise and execute schemes 
by which our degraded brethren may be raised to intellectual 
and moral excellence : to train up young immortals in religion 
and virtue; to diffuse the principles of useful knowledge 
among all ranks; to counteract the diabolical spirit of war and 
contention; to abolish slavery in every shape; to meliorate 
the social and domestic condition of the lower orders of so- 
ciety; to publish the revelation of God in every language, and 
to send forth the messengers of salvation to every land, to in- 
struct men of all nations and kindreds and tongues in the 
knowledge of the true God, and of the path which leads to a 
blessed immortality. Thus shall we be enabled to manifest 
eur love towards all our brethren of the human family; thus 
shall we contribute to render them worthy of our highest af- 
fection, and to prepare them for the exalted exercises and em- 
ployments of the life to come. 



104 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



SECTION IV. W 

Love to God and our Neighbour enforced, and illustrated, from 
a consideration of the miserable effects lohich would ensue 
were these principles reversed, and were rational beings to 
act accordingly. 

The two leading principles which I have endeavoured to 
illustrate, in the preceding pages, form the basis of the moral 
order of the intelligent universe. Consequently, were these 
principles reversed, and were moral agents to act accordingly, 
the moral world would soon be transformed into a scene of 
the most dismal anarchy and confusion. Every action would 
he dictated by feelings of pure malevolence, and misery in every 
shape would be the great object which human beings would 
exert their powers to accomplish. Could we suppose for a 
moment, that society could subsist for any length of time un 
der the unrestrained operation of such a principle, the follow- 
ing, among many thousands of similar effects, would be the 
natural and necessary results. 

Every individual would exhibit, in every action, the charac 
ter of a fiend; and every family would display a miniature 
picture of hell. Between the husband and wife there would 
be nothing but incessant brawling, dissention, and execration. 
Whatever was ardently desired by the one would be as reso- 
lutely and obstinately opposed by the other; and the fury and 
resentment excited by unsatisfied desires, and disappointed 
hopes, would destroy every vestige of peace and tranquillity, 
and stimulate a host of infernal passions to rage without con- 
trol. Their children would be actuated by the same diaboli- 
cal tempers. The son would take an infernal pleasure in curs- 
ing, insulting and reproaching "the father that begat him," and 
in trampling with scorn and indignation on the mother who 
gave him birth. Brothers and sisters would live under the 
continual influence of malice and envy, 44 hateful, and hating 
one another.'' Whatever actions tended to irritate, to torment, 
and to enrage the passions of each other, and to frustrate their 
desires and expectations, would be performed with a grin of 
infernal delight. Mutual scuffles and execrations would ensue. 
One would have his eye-ball bruised, or knocked out of its 
socket, another would have his teeth driven out of his jaws; 
one would have his hair torn from its roots, another, his skull 
fractured with repeated blows; the legs of one would be full 
of bruises and putrifying sores, and the face of another all 



EFFECTS OF MALEVOLENCE. 



over covered with blotches and scars, most hideous to behold; 
and, in the progress of contention, the hand of a brother would, 
plunge his dagger into a brother's heart. In larger societies, 
fraud, falsehood, deceit, seduction, quarrels, oppression, plun- 
der, rapine, murder, and assassination, would be the common 
occurrences of every day and every hour. The seller would 
uniformly endeavour to cheat the buyer, and the buyer would 
endeavour by every kind of fraud, or open force, to deprive 
the seller of the value of his commodities. Poison would be 
sold for medicine, and deleterious mixtures and poisonous 
drugs would be mixed up with the common articles of food, 
that the venders might enjoy the diabolical pleasure of hearing 
of the pains, the agonies, and the dying groans of the victims 
of their villany. The debauchee would triumph in the num- 
ber of victims he had rendered wretched and forlorn by his 
wiles and depraved passions; the strong would oppress the 
weak, and rejoice in depriving them of every comfort, and the 
powerful would exult in trampling under their feet the persons 
and the property of the poor, and in beholding the extent of 
lie miseries they had created. 

In the common intercourse of life, every one would be mal- 
treated, insulted, and reproached, as he walked along the 
street; the lip would be shot out with a diabolical grin at every 
passenger, which would be returned with the frown and the 
scowl of a demon. Every passenger that met another on the 
highway would be encountered with blows, execrations, and 
reproaches ; and he who met his neighbour unawares in the 
recesses of a forest, would receive a dagger in his breast be- 
fore he was aware of his danger. Words would be exchanged 
between man and man that would cut each other's hearts "like 
the piercings of a sword," and horrible contentions, accompa- 
nied with rage and fury, and wounds and bruises, would be 
presented to the view in every city, and village, and rural 
scene. When one had finished a house to shelter him from 
the storm, a number of desperadoes, in horrid combination, 
would overturn the mansion, and crush him among the ruins. 
When one had planted vines and fruit-trees, others would 
seize the opportunity, when they were beginning to bud and 
blossom, to tear them up by the roots; persons who sowed the 
seed in spring could have no confidence that they would ever 
reap the fruits in autumn; and no one could have the least se- 
curity that the wealth and property he possessed to-day would 
be his to-morrow. No one could feel secure for a single hour, 
that his life was not in danger from the sword of the murderer 
or the assassin; everv man would live in continual fear and 



106 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



alarm; no pleasing prospects nor hopes of future enjoyment 
would ever calm the tumultuous passions, or cheer the dis- 
tracted mind; all confidence between man and man would be 
completely destroyed; falsehood in every shape would walk 
triumphant; the mind would be distracted amidst its ignorance 
of the scenes and events that were happening around it; for 
no intelligence could be believed, and no one could certainly 
know the reality of any object or event, unless he beheld it 
with his own eyes. Schools, seminaries of learning, univer- 
sities, and academies would have no existence, and no one 
could gain an acquaintance with any principle or fact in the 
universe around him, except in so far as he had made the in- 
vestigation by means of his own senses and powers. Tor- 
mented by tumultuous passions raging within, in continual 
alarm from desperadoes, plunderers, and assassins raging 
around, looking back on the past with horrible recollections, 
and contemplating the future with terror and dismay, the mind 
would feel itself fixed in a scene of misery and wretchedness, 
which no words could describe nor pencil delineate. 

If we could suppose a number of such beings leagued toge- 
ther for the purpose of carrying the schemes of malevolence 
more completely into effect, one of their employments would 
be to set fire to houses and villages, in order that they might 
enjoy the infernal pleasure of seeing their fellow-creatures de- 
prived of every shelter, and of beholding men, women, and 
children roasting in the flames. Another employment would 
be to poison the springs of water, that they might behold one 
after another, from the sucking child to the hoary head, seized 
with excruciating pains, and sinking into the agonies of death. 
Another gratification of malevolence would be to dam up the 
rivers in their rapid course, that they might overflow the cir- 
cumjacent plains, in order that they might feast their eyes on 
the scenes of devastation and ruin that would thus be created, 
and on the terror and destruction of the wretched inhabitants. 
The conflagration of a city, with all its accompaniments, the 
crash of falling houses, and of palaces tumbling into ruin; the 
terror and confusion of its inhabitants, the wailings of women 
and children, and the groans of the burning victims, would be 
a feast to the eyes and music to the cars of such malignant 
beings, as they once were to Nero % when, from the top of a high 
tower, he beheld Rome wrapt in the fL^ts which he himself 
had kindled, and sung on his lyre the destruction of Troy. 
Even in the midst of the ocean such revolting scenes would be 
frequently realized. When two ships descried each other, a 
diabolical onset would ensue. To set on flames the respective 



EFFECTS OF MALEVOLENCE. 



107 



vessels, to sink them in the deep, or to cause them to burst 
with a horrid explosion, would be the object of both the crews; 
that they might feast their malevolence on the spectacle of 
wounds and carnage, of drowning wretches covered with blood 
and scars, fighting with the billows, and scrambling for safety 
among the shattered fragments of the wreck. 

Were it possible that discoveries in art and science could be 
made by intelligences actuated by such malignant passions, 
they would be all applied to subserve the purposes of malevo- 
lence, The force of gunpowder would be employed to blow 
ships and houses to atoms, to shake populous cities to their 
foundations, and to create among their inhabitants universal 
horror and alarm; the force of steam would be employed in 
producing destructive explosions, and in propelling the instru- 
ments of death and devastation among a surrounding popu- 
lace. Air balloons would be employed for enabling them to 
carry their malignant schemes, in relation to distant tribes, 
more speedily into effect; for hurling down upon towns and 
villages stones, and bullets, and darts; and for enabling them 
to escape in safety when they had finished the work of destruc- 
tion. The discovery of the nature of lightning, and its iden- 
tity to the electrical fluid, instead of being applied for the pro- 
tection of persons and of buildings from the stroke of that 
terrific meteor, would be destined to the purpose of devastation 
and destruction. The electricity of the atmosphere and the 
lightnings from the clouds would be conducted and directed so 
as to set on fire stacks of corn, to shatter lofty buildings, and 
lay groups of men and cattle prostrate with the dust. Every 
mechanical power, and all the combinations of physical forces 
which art can produce, would be applied to the framing of en- 
gines for torture, devastation, and massacre; and on the front 
of every new invention, would be displayed, as if engraved in 
legible characters — terror, misery, and destruction. 

Could we suppose for a moment such beings occasionally 
combining together on a large scale, for the purpose of more 
extensively glutting their malevolence, their conduct towards 
each other as nations, and the contests in which they would 
be engaged in this capacity, would be tremendous and horrible 
beyond the power of description. Every malevolent affection 
would be brought into suction ; every infernal passion would be 
raised to its highest pitch of fury; every one, stimulated by 
his associates, would breathe nothing but revenge, execrations, 
slaughter, and utter extermination against opposing armies; 
every engine of human destruction which ingenuity could in- 
vent would be brought into the scene of action ; the yell of 



18 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



demons would accompany the fierce and sanguinary onset; 
and a scene of horror would ensue beyond the power of ima- 
gination to conce r 'e which would not terminate till the one 
class of combatants nau exterminated the other; till they had 
trampled down and destroyed the fruits of their ground, and 
turned their land into a wilderness; till they had burned their 
villages to ashes, and tumbled their cities into a heap of ruins; 
till they had drenched their fields with blood, and stiewtiJ them 
with skulls, and limbs, and the mangled carcases of thousands 
and ten thousands of men, women, and children, thrown toge- 
ther in horrible confusion. But it is needless to dwell on such 
scenes; since the history of all nations — since even the his- 
tory of modern Europe presents us with spectacles of horror, 
scarcely inferior to those I have now described, and with moral 
agents who bear too striking a resemblance to those whose 
actions are completely subversive of the second commandment 
of the law, 44 Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." 

Such, then, would be some of the dread fu 1 effects which 
would flow from a subversion of the second principle of the 
moral law, if we could suppose that organical intelligences, not 
endowed with immortal bodies, could exist for any length of 
time amidst such scenes of depravity and wretchedness. But 
it is more than probable that such a state of society could not 
long subsist in such a world as we now inhabit, and among 
rational beings, whose corporeal organization is constructed 
after the model of the human frame. The whole mass of so- 
ciety in every land would soon be transformed into one bound- 
less scene of anarchy and confusion ; every one would flee 
from his neighbour as from an infernal fiend ; a war of uni- 
versal extermination would commence; nothing would be be- 
held over all the regions of the globe but spectacles of rapine, 
devastation, and destruction ; and nothing would be heard 
among all the eight hundred millions of its inhabitants but the 
voice of execration, and the yells of lamentation, and mourn- 
ing, and wo, till at length every beauty which now adorns the 
face of nature would be effaced, every fertile field transformed 
into a desert, every human habitation overturned, and every 
inhabitant of the earth sunk into oblivion.* This is one of the 

* Whether such scenes as some of them now described may be realized 
in the future state of punishment, or whether the principles of the moral 
law will be entirely subverted among the miserable beings who are sub- 
jected to that punishment, it becomes not us positively to determine. But 
we can scarcely conceive a more horrible idea than that of intelligent 
beings acting uniformly from principles of pure malevolence, and at the 
same time endowed with immortal bodies, capable of sensations similar to 



EFFECTS OF MALEVOLENCE. 



109 



most terrible representations we can form of the horrors of 
the future state of punishment, where malevolent passions 
rage without control; and the considerations now stated de- 
monstrate, that the man who is actuated by a principle of hos-^ 
tility towards his neighbour, is training and preparing himself 
for becoming an inhabitant of that miserable and dreary region, 
" where the worm dieth not, and the fire" of malevolence and 
revenge " is never quenched." We are thus instructed, that 
if there be a future state at all, it must, from the very nature 
and constitution of things, be a state of misery and horror to 
every man whose mind is under the unrestrained dominion of 
depraved affections and malignant passions ; so that there is no 
possibility, in such a case, of escaping the "wrath to come," 
unless the moral constitution of the intelligent universe were 
entirely subverted. 

If, then, it appears that such dismal consequences would flow 
from the subversion of this principle or law, it is obvious that 
the law itself must be "holy, just, and good," and calculated 
to promote the perfection and happiness of all created intelli- 
gences, among whom it is found in full operation. And in a 
world such as ours, where this law is partially violated, the 
consequent misery which is suffered will be nearly in propor- 
tion to the extent to which this violation is carried, and to the 
number of individuals who are actuated by a principle of op- 
position to its requirements. 

In like manner, it might be shown, that the most dismal 
effects would be produced, were the first principle of the moral 
law reversed, and the malevolence of intelligent beings directed 
towards their Creator. In this case, instead of assembled mul- 
titudes joining in solemn adorations of the divine character and 
perfections, the God of heaven would be blasphemed, and his 
name abhorred in every land. Instead of reverence and pro- 
found humility in the presence of Jehovah, a spirit of pride 
and independency, and an impatience of control, would pervade 
every mind. Instead of thanksgivings for the bounties of his 
providence, the basest ingratitude would be manifested, and the 
most marked contempt of all his favours, Instead of cordial 
submission to his wise arrangements, nothing but murmurings 
and repinings would be heard, and the most presumptuous de- 
cisions uttered against al4 the dispensations of his providence. 
Instead of complacency and delight in his character and ope- 

those we now feel. In this case, every accumulated wound received from 
malignant associates would be an additional source of pain and misery, 
which would continually increase^ without any prospect of relief from tne 
stroke of death. 

10 



110 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



rations, insults and reproaches would burst forth at every dis- 
play of his wisdom, justice, and omnipotence. Instead of ad- 
miration of the beauty and grandeur of his wonderful works in 
heaven and earth, feelings of contempt and disdain would be 
mingled with all their surveys of the operations of nature. 
His omnipotence would be disregarded, his benevolence called 
in question or despised, and his wisdom and intelligence ar- 
raigned. Like Alphonso, king of Castile, they would not hesi- 
tate to affirm, "If we had been of God's privy council when he 
made the world, we would have advised him better." Under 
the influence of such diabolical dispositions, the harmony of 
the visible creation would be attempted to be deranged, and 
its beauties defaced, in so far as their limited powers would be 
able to effect. The fields would be stripped of their verdure ; 
the forests would be torn up by the roots, and strewed in 
shapeless masses along the plains; the vegetable beauties 
which now diversify the rural landscape would be effaced ; the 
rivers would be turned out of their courses to overflow the 
adjacent plains, and to transform them into stagnant marshes 
and standing pools; the air would be impregnated with pesti 
lential vapours ; and the grand, and beautiful, and picturesque 
scenes of nature would be stripped of their glory, leaving 
nothing but naked rocks and barren deserts, covered with the 
wrecks of nature, to mark the operations of malevolence. 

Such would be the dispositions and the conduct of intelli 
gent beings were the first principle of the moral law reversed, 
and their actions regulated by a principle of malevolence ; and 
such, in a. greater or less degree, are the dispositions of every 
man in whose heart the love of God has never taken up its 
residence. Revolting as the scenes now supposed must appeal 
to every mind possessed of moral feeling, they must be admit 
ted to be the necessary results of malignant passions raging 
without control. And if there be any region of creation in 
which pure malevolence actuates its inhabitants, we must sup 
pose the restraining influence of the Almighty interposed, to 
preserve their malignant operations within those bounds which 
are consistent with the plans of his moral government and the 
general happiness of the intelligent universe. That principles 
and practices have existed among mankind, which, if left to 
operate without restraint, would produce all the effects now 
supposed, appears from the description which the Apostle Paul 
gives of the character of the Gentile world, and even of that 
portion of it which had been brought into a civilized state. 
He declares that " they did not like to retain God in their 
knowledge, but changed the glory of the incorruptible God 



EFFECTS OF BENEVOLENCE. 



Ill 



into an image made like to corruptible man, and to birds, and 
four-footed beasts, and creeping things," that they were "filled 
with all unrighteousness, fornication, wickedness, coveteous- 
ness, maliciousness;" that they were "full of envy, murder, 
deceit, malignity, backbiters, haters of God, despiteful, proud, 
boasters, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents ; with- 
out understanding, without natural affection, implacable, un- 
merciful. Who, knowing the judgment of God, that they who 
commit such things are worthy of death, not only do the same, 
but have pleasure in them that do them." Were practices 
and passions of this description, which are all directly opposed 
to the principle of benevolence, to operate without control, 
the universe would soon be transformed into a boundless scene 
of devastation and sterility, of misery and horror, of lamenta- 
tion and wo. 

Turning our eyes from such revolting scenes, I shall now 
direct the attention of my readers to a more pleasing picture, 
and endeavour to delineate some of the happy effects which 
would naturally result from a complete conformity in thought 
and action to the principles of the divine law. 



SECTION V. 

Effects which would flow from the full operation of the principle 
of Love to God and to Man. 

Were this divine principle in full operation among the in- 
telligences that people our globe, this world would be trans- 
formed into a paradise, the moral desert would be changed into 
a fruitful field, and "blossom as the rose," and Eden would 
again appear in all its beauty and delight. Fraud, deceit, and 
artifice, with all their concomitant train of evils, would no 
longer walk rampant in every land. Prosecutions, lawsuits, 
and all the innumerable vexatious litigations which now dis- 
turb the peace of society, would cease from among men. 
Every debt would be punctually paid ; every commodity sold 
at its just value; every article of merchandise exhibited in its 
true character ; every promise faithfully performed ; every dis- 
pute amicably adjusted; every man's character held in estima- 
tion ; every rogue and cheat banished from society ; and every 
jail, bridewell, and house of correction, would either be swept 
away, or transformed into the abodes of honesty, industry, 



112 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



and peace. Injustice and oppression would no longer walk 
triumphant through the world, while the poor, the widow, and 
and the fatherless were groaning under the iron rod of those 
who had deprived them of every comfort. No longer would 
the captive be chained to a dungeon, and doomed to count, in 
sorrow and solitude, the many long days and years he has been 
banished from the light of day and the society of his dearest 
friends. No longer should we see a hard-hearted creditor 
doom a poor unfortunate man, for the sake of a few shillings 
or pounds, to rot in a jail, while his family, deprived of his in- 
dustry, were pining away in wretchedness and want. No 
longer should we hear the harsh creaking of iron doors, pon- 
derous bolts, and the clanking of the chains of criminals ; nor 
the sighs and groans of the poor slave, fainting under the lash, 
and the reproaches of a cruel master. The bands of the op- 
pressed would be loosed, the captives would be set at liberty, 
the iron fetters would be burst asunder, and a universal jubilee 
proclaimed throughout every land. The haunts of riot and 
debauchery would be forsaken, and their inmates hissed from 
the abodes of~men. The victims of seduction would no longer 
crowd our streets at the dead hour of night, to entice the 
"simple ones" into the paths of vice and destruction; but pu- 
rity, righteousness, and peace would "run down our streets 
like a river," distributing safety, happiness, and repose. 

The tongue of the slanderer and the whisperings of the 
tackbiter would no longer be heard in their malicious attempts 
to sow the seeds of discord and contention among brethren. 
Falsehood in all its ramifications, with the numerous train of 
evils it now produces, would be banished from the intercourses 
of society; nor would treachery prove the ruin of families and 
societies, and interrupt the harmony of the commercial and the 
moral world. No longer should we hear of the embezzling of 
property by unfaithful servants, nor of the blasted hopes, the 
cruel disappointments, and the ruin of credit and of reputation 
now produced by the votaries of falsehood. "The lips of 
truth would be established for ever," and the liar and deceiver 
would be hissed to the shades of hell. Our property would 
remain sacred and secure from the thief and the midnight 
robber, and our persons from the attacks of the murderer and 
the assassin. We should no longer hesitate to prosecute our 
journeys by day or by night for fear of the footpad or the 
highwayman, but should recognize every passenger as a friend 
and protector. Plunder and devastation would cease from the 
earth; "violence would no more be heard in our land; nor 
wasting nor destruction in all our borders." Execrations and 



EFFECTS OE BENEVOLENCE. 



malicious insults would never harrow up the feelings of our 
fellow-men, nor would a single instance of revenge be heard 
of among all the inhabitants of the earth. 

Pride, which now stalks about with stately steps and lofty 
looks, surveying surrounding intelligences with feelings of 
contempt, would be forever banished from the world. Am 
bition would no longer wade through slaughter to a throne, 
nor trample on the rights of an injured people. Wars would 
cease to the ends of the earth, and the instruments of human 
destruction would be beaten into ploughshares and pruning- 
hooks. That scourge which has drenched the earth with hu- 
man gore — which has convulsed every nation under heaven— 
which has produced tenfold more misery than all the destruc- 
tive elements of nature, and which has swept from existence so 
many millions of mankind — would be regarded as the eternal 
disgrace of the human character, and the most shocking dis- 
play of depravity in the annals of our race. No longer should 
we hear 64 the sound of the trumpet and the alarm of war," the 
confused noise of " the horseman and the bowman," and of 
the mighty armies encamping around " the city of the inno 
cent," to hurl against its walls the instruments of destruction. 
No longer should we behold the fires blazing on the mountain 
tops, to spread the alarm of invading armies ; nor the city, 
which was once full of inhabitants, Ci sitting solitary," without 
a voice being heard within its dwellings but the sighs of the 
disconsolate and the groans of the dying. Human wolves 
thirsting for the blood of nations, would cease to prowl among 
men. Nation would not lift up sword against nation, neither 
would they learn war any more. The instruments of cruelty, 
the stake, the rack, the knout, and the lash, would no longer 
lacerate and torture the wretched culprit ; cannons, and guns, 
and swords, and darts would be forged no more; but the in 
flnence of reason and affection would preserve order and har- 
mony throughout every department of society. The traveller, 
when landing on distant shores, and on the islands of the 
ocean, would no longer be assailed with stones, spears, arrows, 
and other instruments of death, and be obliged to flee from 
the haunts of his own species, to take refuge in the lion's den, 
or on the bosom of the deep ; but would be welcomed as a 
friend and a messenger of peace. The animosities which now 
prevail among religious bodies would cease ; the nicknames by 
which the different sects of religionists have been distinguished, 
would be erased from the vocabulary of every language; 
Christians would feel ashamed of those jealousies and evil 
surmisings which they have so long manifested towards each 

10* 



114 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGIOX. 



other, and an affectionate and harmonious intercourse would 
be established among all the churches of the saints. 

These, and a thousand other evils, which now render this 
world a vast wilderness of perturbation, wretchedness, and 
sorrow, would be completely eradicated, were the principle of 
holy love in incessant operation; and in their place a scene 
of loveliness and moral beauty would burst upon the view, 
which would diffuse joy and ecstatic delight through every 
bosom. 

Every family would become a mansion of peace and love — 
a temple consecrated to the God of heaven, from which the 
incense of prayer, and praise, and pious aspirations, would 
daily ascend in sweet memorial to the throne above. Domes- 
tic broils and contentions would cease ; brothers and sisters 
would be cemented in the closest bonds of holy affection; the 
law of kindness would swell their hearts and dwell upon their 
tongues ; serenity, and joy> and a desire to please, would ap- 
pear on eve: y countenance; a mutual exchange of sentiment 
and generous affections would circulate joy from father to son, 
and from children to parents ; and all the members of the 
family circle, animated by the same benevolent spirit, w T ould 
" dwell together in unity." To communicate useful know- 
ledge, to train each other to piety and virtue, to point out the 
different spheres in which benevolence should act, to assist in 
every kindly office, to soothe each other in distress, and to 
direct each other in the path to an endless life, would be the 
unceasing desire and endeavour of every inmate of the family 
mansion. From every sueh mansion, the radiations of love 
would fly from family to family, from one hamlet and village 
to. another, from one town and city to another, from one nation 
to another, and from one continent to another, till all the fami- 
lies of the earth were converted into 44 the dwellings of the 
God of Jacob." 

In larger communities the principle of love would effectuate 
a mighty change. That spirit of jealousy and selfishness, ot 
avarice and monopoly, which now produces so many jarrings, 
contentions, and collisions of interests among town councils, 
corporations, and other smaller associations, would cease to 
operate. Every one would see and feel, that the prosperity of 
the whole is also the prosperity of every portion of the gene- 
ral community. Boisterous disputations, sneers, hisses, re- 
proaches, and angry passions, would be banished from the de- 
liberations of every society; and candour, good-will, and kindly 
affections would animate the minds of all its members. Right- 
eous laws would be enacted* and distributive justice equitably 



EFFECTS OF BENEVOLENCE. ll£ 

administered. Every nation would form one great and har- 
monious family; all its members being linked together by the 
ties of kindness and reciprocal affection. Its magistrates 
would become " nursing fathers" to the whole body of the 
people, to promote their peace, their domestic comfort, their 
knowledge, and their general improvement; and throughout 
all ranks of the community nothing would appear but submis- 
sion, obedience, reverence, and respect. 

The mutual intercourse of nations would be established on 
the principles of friendship and affection, and on the basis of 
immutable justice and eternal truth. Raised above petty jea- 
lousies, secure from the alarms of war, and viewing each other 
as branches of the same great family, and as children of the 
same Almighty Parent, — every nation and empire would feel 
an interest in promoting the prosperity of another, and would 
rejoice in beholding its happiness and improvement. Com- 
merce would be free and unshackled, and the productions of 
nature and of art would quickly be transported into every na- 
tion from every clime. Travellers and navigators would visit 
foreign shores without danger or alarm from insidious or hos- 
tile tribes, and would land on the most obscure island of the 
ocean, fully assured of protection and comfort, and the wel- 
come of friendship and affection. Every vessel that ploughed 
the deep would become a floating temple, from which incense 
and a pure offering would daily ascend to the Ruler of the 
skies; and its mariners would join, with one heart and one 
mind, in imploring upon each other the blessing and protec- 
tion of the God of heaven. The beams of love and affection 
would gladden every land, and add a new lustre to the natural 
beauties of its landscape. The inhabitants of China and Japan 
would be hailed as benefactors when they arrived on our coasts 
with their cargoes of tea, sugar, silk, and porcelain; and the 
natives of France and Great Britain, when they transported 
their manufactures to these distant empires, would be welcomed 
as friends, and conducted, without the least jealousy or suspi- 
cion, through all their cities and rural scenes, to survey the 
beauties of nature and art with which those countries are 
adorned. The natives of Papua and New-Zealand would land 
on our shores without spears, or darts, or other hostile wea- 
pons, and be recognized as friends and brethren; and our 
countrymen, when traversing the different regions of the globe, 
would always meet with a cordial reception when landing on 
their coasts. For national jealousies and antipathies would 
cease; and instead of selfish and revengeful passions, reason 
would be cultivated, and its powers expanded; the smile of 



116 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



benevolence and the hand of beneficence would gladden the 
inhabitants of every clime, and 44 righteousness and praise 
would spring forth before all the nations." 

Under the benignant influence of the spirit of love, useful 
intelligence of every description would be rapidly and exten- 
sively communicated ; the sciences would be improved, and 
carried forward to perfection; the jealousies which now exist 
among scientific men would cease to operate, and every fact on 
which science is built would be impartially investigated, and 
exhibited in its true aspect; the arts would flourish, and be car- 
ried to the highest pitch of improvement; no secrets in arts or 
trades would be locked up in the breast of the discoverer: but 
every useful hint would at once be communicated to the pub- 
lic ; every invention would uniformly be applied to the pro- 
motion of a benevolent object, and the arts of destruction would 
cease to be cultivated, and be held in universal detestation. 
Under the hand of art, the habitations of men would be beau- 
tified and adorned, to correspond with the purity and improve- 
ment of their moral feelings, and a new lustre would be thrown 
over the face of nature. Towns and villages would be built 
on spacious plans, divested of all that gloom and filth which 
now disgrace the abodes of millions of human beings, and 
which form an emblem of their physical and moral wretched- 
ness; and the landscape of every country would present a 
scene of grandeur, fertility, and picturesque beauty. Those 
immense treasures which have been so long expended in the 
arts of war and devastation would be employed in turning im- 
mense deserts into fruitful fields, in beautifying the aspect of 
rural nature, in planting orchards and vineyards, in forming 
spacious roads, in establishing seminaries of instruction, in 
erecting comfortable habitations for the lower orders of society,, 
and promoting their domestic enjoyment. W hat an immense 
variety of objects of this description would be accomplished 
within the limits of Great Britain by means of a thousand mil- 
lions of pounds, which we all know have been lately expended 
within the space of twenty-four years, in carrying forward the 
work of destruction ! 

Under the influence of the reign of love, the instruction of 
all ranks, in every department of useful knowledge, would be 
rapidly promoted ; ignorance and error, with all their attendant 
evils, would soon evanish from the minds even of tbe lowest 
orders of society ; seminaries would be erected and established 
on a liberal basis, for instructing every class of mankind in all 
those branches of science which tend to expand the capacity 
of the human mind, and to extend the range of its contempla^ 



EFFECTS OF BENEVOLENCE. 



117 



tions; the hours of active labour would be abridged, in order 
that they might have leisure for the cultivation of their under- 
standing and the exercise of their moral powers. To add to 
their stock of knowledge, and to increase the sum of happiness 
around them, would be considered as interesting and as delight- 
ful as it now is to the sons of Mammon to "add house to house, 
and field to field," and to riot on the gains of avarice. Socie- 
ties would be formed for mutual improvement in knowledge 
and virtue; lectures delivered on every interesting and useful 
subject; experiments performed to illustrate the order and 
mechanism of nature; and instruments of every description 
procured for exhibiting the wisdom and omnipotence of the 
Creator and the glories of the universe. The revelation of 
heaven would be studied with intelligence in all its aspects and 
bearings, and every passion, affection, and active exertion would 
be directed by its moral requisitions. The human mind thus 
trained and carried forward in wisdom and holiness, would shed 
a moral radiance around it, and be gradually prepared for en 
tering on a higher scene of contemplation and enjoyment. 

Among all ranks of men, a spirit of selfishness and avarice 
would be extinguished, and in its stead a spirit of noble gene- 
rosity and beneficence would pervade the whole mass of society. 
That divine maxim inculcated by our Saviour, "It is more 
blessed to give than to receive ," would be engraven on every 
heart, and appear in every action. This sublime principle 
forms a prominent trait in the character of God, and in all his 
arrangements towards his creatures ; and it animates the minds 
of superior intelligences in their associations with each other, 
and in their occasional intercourses with the inhabitants of 
our world. In imitation of these glorious beings, the human 
race would consider it as the grand end of their existence, not 
merely to acquire wealth, knowledge, or power, but to employ 
themselves in the unceasing diffusion of beneficence to all 
around. To communicate happiness throughout all the ranks 
of their fellow-men with whom they mingle, to soothe the dis- 
consolate and the desponding, to relieve the distressed, to in- 
struct the ignorant, to expand the intellect, to animate and di- 
rect the benevolent affections, to increase the enjoyments of 
the lower orders of the community, to direct the opening minds 
of the young, to lead them by gentle steps into the paths of 
wisdom and holiness, and to promote every scheme which has 
a relation to the public good, would form the constant aim o/ 
all conditions of men from the highest to the lowest. Every 
house would be open to the weary and benighted traveller 
every heart would welcome him to the refreshments and repose 



118 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



it afforded, every countenance would beam benignity, every 
comfort would be afforded, every wish anticipated, and every 
stranger thus entertained would "bless the mansion," and im- 
plore the benediction of heaven on all its inmates. The house- 
less child of want would no longer wander amidst scenes of 
plenty, tattered and forlorn, pinched w T ith poverty, exposed to 
the piercing blasts, and obliged to repose under the open 
canopy of heaven, for want of more comfortable shelter ; the 
poor would soon cease out of the land, every one would be 
active and industrious, and every one would enjoy a comfort- 
able portion of the bounties of Providence. And what a 
happy world would it be were kindness and affection the cha- 
racteristic of all its inhabitants! The face of nature would 
wear a more cheering aspect, "the desert would rejoice and 
blossom as the rose," the flowers would look more gay, the 
"little hills" would be encircled with joy, the light of heaven 
would appear more glorious and transporting, a thousand de- 
lightful emotions would spring up in the mind amidst every 
rural scene, and every social intercourse would be a source of 
unmingled bliss. Paradise would be restored, heaven would 
descend to earth, and an emblem would be presented of the 
joys of the blessed above. 

O blissful and auspicious era! When wilt thou arrive to 
still the restless agitation of malignant passions, to promote 
peace on earth and good will among men? When will the 
benevolence of angels and archangels descend to dwell with 
man upon earth, to expel selfishness from the human breast, 
to hush every disordered affection, and to restore tranquillity 
and order among the bewildered race of Adam? When will 
the spirit of love, in all its beneficent energies, descend from 
the Father of light to arrest the convulsions of nations, to heal 
the wounds of suffering humanity, to transform fields of slaugh- 
ter into regions of tranquillity, to soften the ferocious tempers 
of "the people who delight in war," to unite in one holy and 
harmonious society men of every language and of every 
tribe? Not till Christianity shall have shed its benign influ- 
ence on every land ; not till " the knowledge of the Lord shall 
cover the earth," and the cannons, and swords, and spears, and 
battle-axes of the warrior shall be broken to shivers, and forged 
into ploughshares and pruning-hooks. "Then shall the wolf 
dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the 
kid, and the calf, and the young lion, and the fatling together, 
and a little child shall lead them." "Then judgment shall 
dwell in the wilderness, and righteousness in the fruitful field. 
And the work of righteousness shall be peace, and the effect 



EFFECTS OF BENEVOLENCE. 



119 



of righteousness, quietness, and assurance forever. And all 
people shall dwell in peaceable habitations, and in sure dwell 
ings, and in quiet resting-places." 

In fine, under the reign of love, most of the evils, both phy- 
sical and moral, undei which men are now doomed to suffer, 
would be either greatly mitigated or completely abolished. It 
is scarcely too much to affirm, that nine-tenths of all the evils 
that affect humanity are the result of the malice and unkind- 
Hess of mankind towards each other. If all the sorrow and 
Wretchedness produced by fraud, falsehood, avarice, extortion, 
injustice, oppression, perjury, seduction, treachery, litigations, 
slander, pride, ambition, revenge, robbery, murder, plunder, 
and devastation were extirpated, little would remain besides the 
incidental evils which occasionally flow from the elements of 
nature. And even these would be greatly mitigated by the 
benevolent operations of art. directed by the discoveries of 
science. By clearing the surface of the globe of immense 
forests, by draining stagnant marshes, and by the universal 
cultivation and improvement of the soil, the seasons would be 
meliorated, and storms and tempests would be deprived of their 
wonted violence and fury; and the partial physical evils which 
still remained would be almost annihilated to the sufferer, by 
the sympathy, and tenderness, and the kind and fostering hand 
of universal benevolence. Where virtue, temperance, serenity 
of mind, and social joy reigned triumphant, and where none 
of the ghastly phantoms of scepticism and superstition haunted 
the mind, disease would seldom invade the human frame; the 
span of mortal existence would be extended; death would be- 
come calm and tranquil, and every one would "come to his 
grave, like as a shock of corn cometh in in his season." In 
short, under the influence of the emanations of love, malignity 
would be transformed into benevolence, vice into virtue, op- 
pression into justice, cruelty into sympathy and tenderness, 
selfishness into beneficence, contention into unity and friend- 
ship, fraud into honesty, avarice into generosity, pride into 
humility, wretchedness into comfort, sorrow into joy, war into 
peace, and this spacious globe, now the receptacle of misery 
and vice, would be transformed into the temple of concord, 
happiness, and peace. 

Such are some of the beneficial effects which would be ex 
perienced in the social state of the human race, were a princi 
pie of benevolence to pervade the minds of mankind. The 
immense mass of moral evils, under which the earth now groans, 
would be removed ; the moral aspect of society, in every na- 
tion, would assume a new lustre of loveliness and excellence ; 



120 



THE FHILOSOFilV OF KELlGlOX. 



and nature herself would be arrayed in new robes of graceful 
ness and beauty. For it would be easy to show, were it at all 
necessary, that every particular now stated, and a thousand 
similar effects, would be the natural and necessary results of 
love, when it becomes the mainspring of human actions. 

I shall now shortly trace some of the effects of love, con- 
sidered as directed more immediately towards God. 

Supreme love to God would excite complacency in his cha- 
racter and perfections; and piety, in all its fervent and de- 
lightful emotions, would naturally flow upwards to the fountain 
of all purity. His glorious character would be venerated, and 
his name revered over all the earth; trophies would be erected 
to his honour, and temples consecrated to his worship in every 
land. Crowds of worshippers, beaming benignity and devo- 
tion, would be beheld in every region, converging towards the 
"dwelling-place" of the Most High, and encouraging one ano- 
ther in such language as this : " Come ye. and let us go up to 
the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob, 
and he will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths." 
With enlightened views of the attributes of Jehovah, with 
glowing affections, and with profound reverence, would they 
join in the sublime exercises of the sanctuary, and listen to 
the intimations of his will. All voices would be tuned to me- 
lodious strains, and the solemn organ, and those instruments 
of music which are now devoted to the gratification of the 
sons of fashionable folly and dissipation, would harmonize in 
exciting devotional affections, and in swelling the song of sal- 
vation " to Him who sits upon the throne, and to the Lamb 
who hath redeemed us to God by his blood." Every landscape, 
in every point of view, would present a noble edifice devoted to 
the worship of the God of heaven, adorned with every majestic 
decoration suitable to its sanctity, and rearing its spacious dome 
above all the surrounding habitations of men. Its gates " would 
be open continually; they would notbe shut day nor night," that 
men might have access at all seasons to bring "incense and a 
pure offering" to the shrine of Jehovah. The whole earth 
would soon be converted into one universal temple, sacred to 
the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, from which, 
thanksgiving, and the voice of melody, and the holy aspirations 
of gratitude and love, would ascend to heaven without inter- 
mission, and in every direction, from the regions of iiie north 
to the regions of the south, and "from the rising of the .un to 
the going down of the sume." Solemn seasons would be ap- 
pointed, and spacious plains consecrated for the assembling of 
ten thousands of "the sons of God," not for carnage and de- 



EFFECTS OF BENEVOLENCE. 



121 



▼aStation, as when the warrior "mustereth the armies to the 
battle," but " to rehearse the mighty acts of the Lord," to ex- 
change sentiments and feelings of affectionate regard, and to 
swell the song of triumph over sin and misery, with the har- 
mony of human voices and musical instruments, in one loud 
chorus to the skies. Then the name of Jehovah would be One 
throughout all the earth.' "All his works would praise him, 
and his saints would bless him. They would abundantly utter 
the memory of his great goodness, they would speak of the 
glorious honour of his majesty, and sing of his righteousness." 

Among all ranks of men cordial submission to the will of 
God, and contentment under the arrangements of his provi- 
dence would be uniformly manifested. Every one would con- 
sider the situation in which Providence had placed him as the 
best possible for promoting his present improvement and his 
future felicity, viewing it as the allotment of infinite wisdom 
and benevolence. In adversity he would sustain his afflictions 
with patience, and derive from them 44 the peaceable fruits of 
righteousness." In prosperity he would acknowledge God as 
the source of all his enjoyments, and devote the wealth and 
influence he p ssessed to the promotion of religion, and the 
best interests of his fellow-men. By day, and by night, and 
at every returning season, the overflowings of gratitude, in 
every heart, would burst forth in songs of thanksgiving to the 
Giver of all good. Every comfort would be recognized as 
•'coming down from the Father of lights," and every pleasing 
sensation produced by the scenery of nature, as the result of 
his wisdom and beniflcence. His wonderful works, which are 
now overlooked, or gazed at with apathy by nine-tenths of the 
inhabitants of the globe, would be contemplated with enligh- 
tened understandings, and with emotions of reverence, admira- 
tion, and delight. The majestic movements of the planetary 
orbs, the glories of the starry sky, the light beaming from a 
thousand suns through the immeasurable voids of space, the 
mighty ocean with all its wonders, the numerous rivers rolling 
into its abyss, the lofty ranges of mountains which encircle 
the earth, the treasures of the fields, the riches of the mines, 
the beauties which adorn the hills and plains, the wonders of 
the atmosphere, the admirable structure and economy of the 
numerous tribes of animated beings, — these, and thousands of 
other objects, considered as manifestations of the attributes of 
Deity, would supply topics of conversation in every social 
circle, on which every heart would dwell with increasing 
delight. 4 They would speak of the glory of his kingdom, audi 
talk of his power, to make known to the sons of men hi* 

11 



122 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



mighty acts, and the glorious majesty of his kingdom." The 
work of human redemption, in its origin and progress, in its 
connexions and bearings, in the lustre it reflects on the per- 
fections of the Deity, in its relation to the angelic tribes, and 
in its glorious and happy consequences on thousands of mil- 
lions of human beings throughout an eternal round of exist- 
ence — the person of the Redeemer, his amiable character, his 
grace and condescension, and the glories of his exalted state — 
the joys of departed saints, the general resurrection, with all 
its solemn and transporting scenes, the new heavens and the 
new earth, and the boundless scene of grandeur and felicity 
which will open to the view when death shall be swallowed up 
in victory, and all things subjected to the moral order of the 
universe, would afford subjects of sublime contemplation, and 
themes for social converse, on which enlightened and renovated 
minds would expatiate with ever-growing improvement, and 
ever-growing pleasures. 

The providential dispensations of God towards the human 
race, would form another subject of investigation, which would 
be prosecuted with feelings of astonishment, admiration, and 
reverence. The history of all nations would be carefully pe- 
rused — not for the purpose of admiring the exploits of mighty 
conquerors and barbarous heroes, and feasting the imagina- 
tion on spectacles of human slaughter and devastation — but 
for exciting abhorrence of those depraved passions which had 
drenched the earth with blood — for drawing forth the tear of 
pity over the graves of slaughtered nations— for stimulating 
he exercise of those holy affections which restored peace ana 
tranquillity to the world — for acquiring a display of the recti- 
tude of the moral character of God, and the equity of his ad- 
ministration among the nations — for tracing the accomplish- 
ment of divine predictions — for illustrating the long-suffering 
and forbearance of God, and for exciting admiration of tha* 
inscrutable wisdom by which the whole train of events wat 
conducted, so as to set restraining bounds to the wrath of man 
and to make it subservient to the introduction of the reign oi 
happiness and peace. In all the revolutions of past ages, anr 
in all the events that daily passed in review before them, they 
would uniformly recognize the agency and the purposes of 
that Almighty Being " who doth according to his will in the 
armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth," 
and who is carrying forward all the plans of his government 
to a glorious consummation. 

Every useful invention, every new instrument for investi- 
gating the operations of nature, every new discovery in the 



EFFECTS OF BENEVOLENCE. 



123 



earth, or in the heavens, every exploration of an unknown region 
of the globe, every branch of commerce and manufacture, 
every new mode of facilitating labour and improving the produc- 
tions of the soil ; every improvement in the ease and rapidity 
of travelling, and of conveying intelligence from one region 
to another, and every art and science, would be consecrated, 
in some form or other, to the service of God, and to the ac- 
complishment of the objects of general benevolence. One 
grand diffusive principle, manifesting itself in numberless ra- 
mifications, would pervade the whole mass of society; and one 
grand aim, the honour and glory of the Creator, and the uni- 
versal diffusion of happiness in every direction, and among 
every rank of sentient and intelligent beings, would be the 
unceasing endeavour of men of all nations, and kindreds, and 
languages. The whole mass of this world's inhabitants would 
appear like one vast celestial army marching forward in har- 
mony to the regions of bliss, everyone, in his appointed order, 
passing in peace and tranquillity through the gates of death, 
to join the general assembly above, and to augment and en- 
liven the congregation of the heavens. 

On such a world the God of heaven would look down with 
complacency, and his providential care would be exercised in 
averting those physical evils which now increase the moral 
wretchedness of mankind. His eye would be continually upon 
them for good, and his ear would be ever open to their re- 
quests. Then that glorious scene presented to the view of 
the apostle John, would be fully realized, — " Behold the 
tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them ; 
and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with 
them, and be their God. And God shall wipe away all tears 
from their eyes, and there shall be no more curse, neither 
sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain ; for 
the former things have passed away." To such a world 
celestial messengers would rejoice to wing their downward 
flight, on messages of love. Their visits, which have been 
" few, and far between," and which have been long interrupted 
by the malevolence of men, would be again resumed ; and those 
" morning stars" that shouted for joy when this fair creation 
arose into existence, would be filled with unutterable delight 
when they beheld moral order restored, and the smiles of uni 
versal love irradiating the inhabitants of our globe, and would 
shout even with more ecstatic joy than they did before, " Glory 
to God in the highest, peace on earth, and good will among 
men!" 

Alas ! such a picture as that which we have now faintly 



124 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



sketched, has never yet been realized in the moral aspect of 
the inhabitants of this world. To ihe eye of an angelic intel- 
ligence, while he hovers over our globe in his flight through 
the planetary regions, nothing appears but a vast cloud of 
moral darkness and depravity, with here and there only a few 
faint radiations of truth and love emerging from the general 
gloom. He beholds throughout the whole extent of Africa, 
from the shores of Barbary and Egypt to the Cape of Good 
Hope — throughout the vast regions of Asia and its numerous 
islands, and throughout four-fifths of the continent of America, 
little else than one wide scene of moral desolation, where 
idolatry and superstition, tyranny and ambition, treachery and 
cruelty, war and dissension reign triumphant among almost 
every tribe ; and where scarcely a ray of divine light and 
divine love, gilds the horizon, from the one end of these ex- 
tensive regions to the other. Even in Europe, where the light 
of science and of Revelation is converged to a focus, what an 
immense cloud of moral darkness still appears enveloping its 
population ? The fields of 1 \yaterloo, of Leipsic, of Borodina, 
and of Smolensko, where so many thousands of human beings 
were sacrificed to the demon of war — the vales of Switzerland 
and Hungary, the plains of France and Italy, the anarchy and 
commotions of Spain and Portugal, and the ensanguined 
shores of Turkey and Greece, where massacres have been 
perpetrated with the rage and fury of infernal demons, bear 
witness to the melancholy fact, that hatred and malignity still 
hold the ascendency over the nations of Europe, and over all 
the efforts of benevolence and love. 

But, we trust, that the period is fast approaching, when the 
breath of a new spirit shall pervade the inhabitants of every 
clime, and when holy love shall unite all the tribes of mankind 
in one harmonious society. When the messengers of the 
Prince of Peace *' shall run to and fro" from the north to the 
south, and from the rising to the setting sun : when the sound 
of the gospel-trumpet shall re-echo throughout every land ; 
when the light of Divine Revelation shall diffuse its radiance 
on the benighted nations ; when its sublime doctrines and 
moral requisitions shall be fully understood and recognized in 
all their practical bearings, and when the energy c«f that 
Almighty Spirit which reduced to light and order, the dark 
and shapeless chaos, shall be exerted on the depraved and 
benighted minds of the mass of this world's population — then 
the death-like slumber which has seized upon the race of Adam 
shall be broken ; the dead in trespasses and sins shall awake 
to new life and activity ; this bedlam of the universe will be 



UNIVERSALITY OF THE PRINCIPL3 OF LOVK. 125 



restored to reason and intellectual freedom, and to the society 
of angelic messengers, and the face of the moral creation will 
be renewed after the image of its Maker. Then wars shall 
cease to the ends of the earth, and anarchy and dissension shall 
convulse the nations no more; violence will no more be heard 
in any land, " liberty will be proclaimed to the captives, and 
the opening of the prison-doors to them that are bound." The 
spirit of malevolence will be vanquished, its power will be 
broken, and its operations demolished. The order and beauty 
of the celestial system will be restored. " Holiness to the 
Lord" will be inscribed on all the implements and employ- 
ments of mankind. Kindness and compassion will form the 
amiable characteristic of'every rank of social life. Love wiS 
spread her benignant wings over the globe, and reign uncon 
trolled in the hearts of all its inhabitants. For thus saith the 
voice of Him who sits on the throne of the universe, " Behold 
I make all things new — I create new heavens and a new earth, 
and the former shall not be remembered, nor come into mind 
Be ye glad, and rejoice for ever in that which I create ; foi 
behold, I create Jerusalem a rejoicing, and her people a joy, 
and the voice of weeping shall be no more heai'd in her, nor 
the voice of crying." 



SECTION VI. 

Universality of the principles of love to God, and to fellow* 
intelligences. 

The grand principles of morality to which I have now ad- 
verted, are not to be viewed as confined merely to the inhabit- 
ants of our globe, but as extending to all intellectual beings, 
They form the basis of the moral laws, which govern all intel- 
ligences throughout the vast universe, in whatever world or 
region of infinite space they may have their physical residence \ 
and they constitute the bond which unites to the supreme in- 
telligence, and to one another, all holy beings, wherever exist- 
ing in the wide empire of Omnipotence. This will at once 
appear, if we reflect for a moment, on what has been stated in 
the preceding sections. We have seen, that, if those laws or 
principles were reversed, and were the moral agents of our 
world to act accordingly, nothing would ensue, but anarchy, 
wretchedness, horror, and devastation, and ultimately a com- 
plete extermination of the race of mankind. And by parity 

n* 



126 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 



of reason, it will follow, that were the same principles to 
operate in any other world, however different the capacities, 
relations, and physical circumstances of its inhabitants might 
be, similar disastrous effects would be the inevitable result ; and 
were they to pervade all worlds, disorder and misery would 
reign uncontrolled throughout the whole intelligent system. 

When the Creator brought any particular world into ex- 
istence, and peopled it with inhabitants, we must suppose, that 
the laws to which I am now adverting, were either formally 
addressed to them by some external revelation, or so power 
fully impressed upon their moral constitution, as to become the 
main-spring of all their actions, so long as they might retain 
the original principles implanted in their minds by the Author 
of their existence. Any other supposition would be fraught 
with the most absurd and horrible consequences. It would be 
subversive of every idea we are led to form of the character 
of the Divine Being, inconsistent with the perfect benevolence 
and rectitude of his nature, and incompatible with the relations 
in which rational beings stand to Him and to one another, and 
with the harmony and happiness of the universe, to suppose, 
that any creatures now exist, or ever can exist, to whom such 
commands as these would be given, — "Thou shalt hate thy 
Creator, who is the source of thine existence ;" and " Thou 
shalt hate all thy fellow-intelligences with whom thou mayst 
associate." And if the mind would recoil with horror, at the 
idea of such laws issuing forth from the throne of the Eternal 
to any class of moral agents, it must necessarily be admitted, 
that the opposite principles or laws, to which I allude, are 
promulgated to all intelligences, and are obligatory on every 
inhabitant of all the worlds which lie between the range of 
Jehovah's empire. The natural scenery with which the in- 
habitants of other worlds are surrounded, the organization of 
their corporeal frames, the intellectual capacities with which 
they are endowed, the stated employments in which they 
engage, and the relations in which they stand to each other, 
may be very different from those which obtain in our terres- 
trial sphere ; but the grand principles to which I refer, must 
necessarily pervade every faculty of their minds, every active 
exertion, and every relation that subsists among them, by 
whatever character it may be distinguished, if they be found 
existing in a state of happiness. 

The moral code of laws in other worlds, may be somewhat 
differently modified from ours, according to the circumstances 
in which the inhabitants of each respective world are placed, 
.and the relations which obtain among them ; but the same 



UNIVERSALITY OF THE PRINCIPLE OF LOVE. 



general principles will run through every ramification of their 
moral precepts, and appear in the minutest actions they per- 
form, as the sap which proceeds from the trunk of a tree dif- 
fuses itself among the minutest and the most distant branches. 
The seventh commandment of our moral code can have no 
place in a world where the inhabitants 44 neither marry nor 
are given in marriage where the succession of intelligent 
beings is not carried on by any process analogous to human 
generation, where death is unknown, and where rational 
agents have a fixed and permanent abode. The fifth precept 
of our law cannot be recognized in a world where the relations 
of parents and children, princes and subjects, superiors and 
inferiors have no existence. And in those worlds where the 
bounties of Divine Providence are equally enjoyed by all, or 
where external comforts are not necessary for the happiness 
of the individual, as in our world, or where the slightest temp- 
tation to interfere with the property of another does not exist, 
there will be no necessity for a distinct moral regulation cor- 
responding to the eighth commandment of our moral code. 
Butin every world where happiness exists, and where the inhabi- 
tants have retained their original integrity, love to God, and 
love to all subordinate intelligences with which they are con- 
nected, will animate every heart, regulate every desire, and 
run through every action. And in those worlds (if any such 
exist besides our own) where these principles are counteracted, 
or not recognized as the foundation of moral action, misery 
and disorder, in a greater or less degree, must be. the inevit- 
able consequence. 

The greater part, however, of the precepts comprised in the 
moral law given to man, must be considered as obligatory 
upon all the rational inhabitants of the universe. The Jirst 
commandment, which forbids the recognition of any object ol 
adoration, or of supreme affection, besides the eternal 
Jehovah — the second, which forbids the representation of this 
incomprehensible Being by any visible or material objects — 
the third, which enjoins reverence of the name or attributes of 
God — and the spirit of the fourth, which enjoins a certain por- 
tion of duration to be set apart for solemn acts of worship and 
adoration, are applicable to all the moral agents that Jehovah 
has created. The sixth commandment, which forbids malice, 
revenge, and injurious actions of every description — the ninth, 
which forbids falesehood, and inculcates truth, which is the 
basis of the moral universe — and the tenth, which forbids 
envy, and every unhallowed desire to deprive our neighbour 
of any portion of his happiness — are also binding upon every 



128 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



class of moral intelligences, wherever existing, throughout the 
unlimited empire of God. For, if we suppose any one of 
these precepts to be reversed, and moral agents to act on the 
principle of this subversion, their moral order and harmony would 
interrupted, and consequently, their happiness destroyed. For 
example, let the law, which inculcates truth, be supposed to 
be universally violated among any class of rational beings, and 
instantly all improvement in wisdom and knowledge w^ould 
cease ; nothing could be depended upon as fact but what was 
obvious to the senses of every individual ; social compacts 
would be dissolved ; a mutual repulsion would ensue, and 
every social affection and enjoyment would be unhinged and 
destroyed. 

By overlooking considerations of this kind, the celebrated 
Dr. Chalmers, in his " Discourses on the Christian Revelation 
viewed in connexion with Modern Astronomy," deprived him- 
self of an important argument to prove that Christianity is 
not confined to this sublunary region. For, as it is the great 
object of the Christian Revelation to bring into full effect, in 
all their practical bearings, the principles I have been endeav- 
ouring to illustrate, and as these principles must be inter- 
woven with the moral code of all worlds— it follows, that the 
spirit and essence of our religion must be common to all the 
holy inhabitants of the universe. 

From what has been now stated respecting the universality 
of the principle of love, the following conclusions may be 
deduced : — 

1. That the man in whose heart this principle is predomi- 
nant, and whose actions are directed by its influence, is qualified 
for associating with the pure intelligences of all worlds. 
Were we transported to the surface of the planet Jupiter, and 
had we access to mingle with its vast population ; or were we 
conveyed to one of the planets which revolve around the star 
Sirius — if the inhabitants of these globes have retained the 
primeval purity of their natures, and if the principle of love 
reigned supreme in our hearts, we should be assured of a 
welcome reception from those distant intelligences, and be 
qualified to mingle with them in their adorations of our com 
mon Creator, and in all their affectionate and harmonious in 
tercourses. We should only have to learn the mode by which 
they communicate to each other their ideas and emotions 
Love would form the basis of every union, and amalgamate 
us with every department of their society. With pleasure, 
and with the most endearing affection, would they point out to 
us the peculiar glories of the world they inhabit, and rehearse 



UNIVERSALITY OF THE PRINCIPLE OF LOVE. 12S 



the history of the Creator's dispensations in that portion of 
his empire ; and with equal pleasure should we listen to the 
instructions which flow from the lips of Benevolence, and 
survey those transporting objects and arrangements which 
decorate a world where love pervades the breasts of all its in- 
habitants. To visit a distant world, although it were in our 
power, where the inhabitants were of an opposite description, 
could afford no gratification to an intelligent and benevolent 
mind, but would overwhelm it with anguish and dismay. 
What enjoyment would the capacious mind of a pure intelli- 
gence from the regions of the constellation Qriov, derive from 
visiting a world inhabited by such beings as the inhabitants of 
Nootka Sound, New Guinea, or New Zealand, where the 
moral and intellectual principle is completely debased, and 
where the beauties of Nature are defaced with interminable 
forests and marshes, and the haunts of beasts of prey ? He 
would be filled with disappointment and horror — he might 
drop a tear of pity over the wretched inhabitants; but he 
would soon wing his flight back to a more delectable region. 
A similar disappointment would be felt, were an inhabitant of 
our world, in whose mind hatred and cruelty, avarice and 
ambition reigned without control— to be conveyed to a world 
of happiness and love. The novel scenes of beauty and gran- 
deur which would burst upon his sight might captivate his 
senses for a little ; but he would feel no enjoyment in the ex- 
ercise of virtuous affections and rapturous adorations, to which 
he was never accustomed ; he would And no objects on which 
to gratify his cruel and ambitious desires, and he would be 
glad to escape from the abodes of affection and bliss, to the 
depraved society from whence he came. Hence we may learn, 
that, however expansive views we may have acquired of the 
range of the Creator's operations, and of the immensity of. 
worlds which are diffused through boundless space, and how- 
ever ardent desires we may indulge of visiting the distant re- 
gions of creation, we never can indulge a rational hope of en- 
joying such a privilege, were it possible, unless love to God 
and to man become the predominant disposition of our minds. 
For, although we were invested by the Almighty, with corpo- 
real vehicles, capable of transporting us from one region of 
creation to another, with the most rapid motion, we could en- 
joy no solid satisfaction, while we remained unqualified for 
relishing the exercises, and mingling in the associations of 
holy intelligences. Tn every happy world on which we 
alighted, we should feel ourselves in a situation similar to that 
of a rude and ignorant boor, were he conveyed to a palace, 
and introduced into an assembly of courtiers and princes 



130 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



2. Another conclusion deducible from this subject is, that 
by virtue of this grand and governing principle, man is con- 
nected with the highest order of intelligences, and with the 
inhabitants of the most distant worlds ; and his happiness per- 
petually secured. When we take a view of the universe by 
the light of modern science, our minds are overpowered and 
confounded at the idea of its vast and unlimited range. When 
we consider that it wouid require several millions of years for 
a cannon ball, flying at the rate of five hundred miles an hour, 
to reach the nearest stars — when we consider that there are 
stars visible to the naked eye, at least fifty times farther dis- 
tant than these — when we consider that there are stars visible 
by the telescope a thousand times farther distant than any of 
the former — and when we consider that all the suns and worlds 
which lie within this unfathomable range are, in all probability, 
only as a grain of sand to the whole earth, when compared 
with the immensity of systems which lie beyond them in the 
unexplored abyss of infinite space, — we are lost in the im- 
mensity of creation, and can set no bounds to the empire of 
the Almighty Sovereign. When we look forward to that 
eternal state to which we are destined — when we consider that 
after thousands of millions of centuries have run their rounds, 
eternity will be no nearer to a termination, and that ages, nu- 
merous as the drops of the ocean, will still roll on in intermi- 
nable succession, — we behold a lapse of duration, and a suc- 
cession of events stretching out before us, which correspond 
with the immeasurable spaces of the universe, and the number 
and magnitude of the worlds with which it is stored. When 
we view ourselves as thus connected with the immensity of 
creation on the one hand, and with infinite duration on the 
other; and when we reflect on the numerous changes that 
have happened, both in the physical and moral aspect of our 
globe, within the period of six thousand years, we cannot but 
conclude that we are destined to pass through new scenes and 
changes in that eternity which lies before us, of which at pre- 
sent we can form no conception. After remaining for thou- 
sands of millions of years in that world which will be prepared 
for the righteous at the general resurrection, we may be trans- 
ported to another system as far distant from that abode as we 
now are from the most distant stars visible to our sight, in 
order to contemplate new displays of the attributes of God in 
another province of his empire. We may afterwards be con- 
veyed to an unoccupied region of immensity, where new crea- 
tions, displaying new objects of glory and magnificence, are 
starting into existence. W T e may afterwards be invested with 
the wings of a seraph, and be enabled to wing our way in 



UNIVERSALITY OF THE PRINCIPLE OF LOVE. 131 



company with angels, from world to world, and to visit the 
most distant regions of that immense universe over which Om- 
nipotence presides. In short, the imagination can set no limits 
to its excursions, when it attempts to survey the revolutions 
and changes that may take place, and the new scenes of glory 
which may burst upon the view, throughout the lapse of a du- 
ration which will have no end. 

Now, in whatever relation man may stand to any portion of 
the universal system, throughout every future period of his ex- 
istence, and during all the revolutions of eternity, love will 
unite him to all other holy beings with whom he may asso- 
ciate, however distant their abode from the spot he now occu- 
pies, however different its scenery and arrangements, and how- 
ever superior they may be in point of corporeal organization 
and intellectual capacity. For no intelligence, in any region 
of the universe, in whom the principle of love predominates, 
can ever be supposed to disdain to associate with another, of 
whatever rank or order, who is actuated by a similar affection; 
otherwise, his love would degenerate into malevolence. This 
principle will unite him to angels and archangels, to cherubim 
and seraphim, to thrones, dominions, principalities, and powers, 
from whose discourses he will learn the history of the Divine 
dispensations, the wonders of Almighty power, and " the mani- 
fold wisdom of God. 5 ' So long as it reigns uncontrolled in 
his heart, it will secure his happiness in all places, and in every 
period of his existence, by a law established by the Almighty, 
and founded on his perfections ; a law which binds together 
the whole intelligent system, and forms the basis of the felicity 
of the moral universe. So that his future blessedness is for- 
ever secure, beyond the reach of danger, and rests upon a 
foundation stable and permanent as the throne of the Eternal. 

3. From what has been now stated, we may learn that there 
is but one religion throughout the universe, however vast its 
magnitude and boundless its extension. In this world, nume- 
rous systems of religion prevail, and thousands of different 
opinions in relation to its ceremonies and objects; but experi- 
ence has demonstrated, that all of them, except one, are insuf- 
ficient to guide rational beings to substantial felicity. And of 
this one system, how many foolish and inaccurate, and even 
contradictory opinions, have been formed, through the igno- 
rance and perversity of the human mind ! Though all its parts 
have a direct reference to the actions of intelligent agents, and 
to the cultivation of benevolent affections, yet it has been re- 
presented, even by its professed abettors, as a congeries of 
metaphysical dogmas and speculative opinions; and in this 



132 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



point of view it has been the source of perpetual Wrangling 
and contentions. Though it is calculated to expand the un- 
derstanding, to warm the heart, and to elevate the soul to God, 
yet it has been reduced, by the cunning artifice of man, to a 
mass of mere quibbles and unmeaning ceremonies. And though 
it breathes nothing but peace and good-will to man, it has been 
employed as an engine of persecution and of human destruc- 
tion. It is only in proportion as our religion approximates to 
the character of the religion which is common to all holy 
beings, that it is worthy of our veneration and our ardent pur- 
suit. And therefore, in order to determine the truth and im- 
portance of any particular system of religious opinions, the 
best test we can apply to it is, to ascertain what bearings it has 
upon the grand principles to which we have been adverting. 
" Do all the sentiments and tenets which it strenuously sup- 
ports, like the lines from the circumference to the centre of a 
circle, converge towards the promotion of love in all its prac- 
tical ramifications? Are the opinions we now so fiercely main- 
tain of such a nature, that we shall probably recognize them 
as important practical principles a million of years hence, in 
the regions of distant worlds ?" If such a test were applied to 
hundreds of opinions which have agitated the religious world, 
and obstructed the operations of the benevolent affections, they 
would be driven away from the Christian system as chaff be- 
fore the whirlwind; and Christians would feel ashamed of the 
importance they attached to their "mint, and anise, and cum- 
min," while they neglected the weightiei matters of the law, 
"judgment, mercy, and the love of God." How many false 
and foolish opinions shall we leave behind us in this region of 
darkness and contention, when we enter within the confines of 
the eternal state? How sublime, how lovely, and how beati- 
fying will religion appear in that world, where it will be con- 
templated in its native simplicity, and stripped of all the foreign 
and adventitious circumstances which now obscure its bright- 
ness and glory! I need scarcely say, that the one religion to 
which I allude is Christianity, considered, not so much in the 
scheme of mediation which it unfolds, which may have a rela- 
tion solely to man viewed in his character as a sinner, but in 
the leading dispositions and virtues it inculcates, and in the 
great objects which all its doctrines, facts, and supernatural 
communications have a tendency to accomplish. In these 
points of view, it must be considered as embodying principles 
and laws which pervade the religious systems of all worlds. 

Finally, love is a principle in the moral and intelligent feys- 
♦em which bears a striking analogy to the principle of aUrac- 



ANALOG^ Of LOVE To ATTRACTION. 



133 



lion in the material world. Each of them unites, in its respec- 
tive sphere, all the beings which compose it in one grand and 
harmonious system; and both of them combined give birth to 
all the moral and physical phenomena which diversify the in- 
tellectual and the material universe. By the principle of at- 
traction, the inhabitants of the earth, along with their habita- 
tions, are retained to its surface, and prevented from flying off 
in wild confusion through the voids of space. By the same 
power the mountains rest on a solid basis, the rivers flow from 
the mountains to the plains, and the ocean is confined within 
its appointed channels. It produces the various phenomena 
which arise from the meandering rill, the majestic river, and 
the roaring cataract. It produces the descent of rain and dew, 
and the alternate flux and reflux of the tides. It prevents the 
waters of the great deep from covering the mountain-tops, and 
mingling in confusion with the clouds of heaven. It binds 
together the infinity of atoms which constitute the globe on 
which we tread; it regulates the various movements of men 
and other animated beings; it forms mechanical powers, and 
gives impulsion to numerous machines and engines. It rolls 
the moon in regular succession around the earth, and prevents 
her from running lawlessly through the sky. It extends its 
influence from the sun to the remotest planets, conducting re- 
volving worlds, with all their satellites in their ample circuits, 
and preserving them all in one harmonious system. It connects 
the earth and the planetary globes with other systems in the 
distant regions of space; and carries the sun, with all his at- 
tendant orbs, around the centre of that nebula to which it be- 
longs, and all the systems and nebulae of the universe around 
the throne of God. 

In like manner, love unites all holy intelligences, wherever 
dispersed through the amplitudes of creation, in one amiable 
and harmonious system. It unites man to God, and God to 
man. It unites the renovated inhabitants of our globe to angels 
and archangels, and qualifies them for entering into the closest 
bonds of friendship and affection with superior intelligences 
that people the regions of distant worlds. It produces an ex- 
pansive and harmonious spirit, and an ardent desire to diffuse 
happiness among all surrounding beings. It gives birth to 
those sublime emotions which flow out towards the Creator in 
the various forms of adoration, complacency, hope, confi- 
lence, humility, joy, submission, and reverence; and it is the 
spring of all those virtuous dispositions which flow out towards 
our fellow-creatures in the form of mercy, compassion, sin- 
cerity, candour, sympathy, kindness, long-suffering, gentleness, 

?2 



134 



THE PHILOSOPHY Of* ELIGlON. 



meekness, charity, generosity, justice, and active beneficence. 
It impels its possessor to run to the assistance of the distressed, 
to support the weak, to console the desponding, to comfort 
the dying, to diffuse the rays of heavenly light over the be- 
nighted mind, and to rejoice in the prosperity of all around. 
It is " the bond of perfection" which unites the members of an 
affectionate family, and preserves the union of the faithful in 
all the churches of the saints. It unites man to man by the 
closest ties, however different in language, customs, colour, 
and complexion, and however far removed from each other in 
point of place. It enables the Greenlander, the Icelander, the 
African, the inhabitant of Hindostan, and the inhabitant of the 
of the British Isles, in whose hearts it resides, to recognize 
each other as "the sons of God,' 9 and as "brethren in Christ 
Jesus." It sends forth the imagination over every quarter of 
the globe, carrying benevolent wishes, fervent prayers, and 
intercessions for men of all kindreds and ranks ; and employs 
every active endeavour to promote the present enjoyment and 
the eternal felicity of the family of mankind. It inspires the 
soul with emotions of delight, when it becomes the instrument 
of communicating happiness to all within the sphere of its in- 
fluence. It unites the host of seraphim and cherubim in one 
vast and harmonious association; so that no jarring affection 
is ever felt, and no discordant voice is ever heard, among the 
thousands and ten thousands of these exalted intelligences. 
It preserves every member of the holy and intelligent system 
in the rank and orbit prescribed by Infinite Wisdom, and leads 
them all to rejoice in accomplishing the plans of their benevo- 
lent Creator. Around him, as the sun of the moral system — 
the centre of light, and love, and joy — they all revolve in their 
appointed order; cheered by the emanation of his love, en- 
lightened by his beams, and reflecting a radiance upon all the 
beings with which they are surrounded. Though one orb 
differs from another in motion, in magnitude, and in glory, yet 
no one interferes with another to impede its progress, or to 
incercept the emanations of light and joy from the Uncreated 
Source and Centre of all enjoyment. 

Were the principle of attraction which binds together the 
atoms of our globe, and connects the planetary orbs with the 
sun, to be completely dissolved, the earth would be shattered 
to its centre; the waters of the ocean would fly upwards, and 
be dispersed through the highest regions of the atmosphere; 
rocks and mountains would be detached from their bases, and 
raised aloft above the clouds ; forests would be torn up from 
their roots, and tossed about in confusion through the sky ; 



ANALOGY OF LOVE TO ATTRACTION. 



136 



the moon would forsake her ancient course; the planets would 
run lawlessly through the immensity of space, and mighty 
worlds would be seen dashing against each other, till they were 
shattered to pieces, and their fragments tossed about in disorder 
throughout surrounding systems. Effects equally disastrous 
to the intelligent system would be produced, were the influence 
of love, in all its varied emanations, to be completely suspended 
or annihilated. War would be proclaimed in heaven, and 
myriads of angels hurled from their seats of bliss. The rap- 
turous songs and adorations of seraphs would be changed into 
the bowlings and execrations of demons. The population of 
the universe would be transformed into one vast assemblage 
of fiends; its regions of beauty and fertility would become 
one wide scene of desolation and horror, and the voice of 
lamentation and misery would be heard resounding throughout 
all worlds. On earth kingdoms would be shaken and con- 
vulsed; governments overturned; societies dissolved; families 
dispersed; the bonds of friendship burst asunder; husbands 
torn from their wives, and parents from their children ; the in- 
tercourse of nations suspended; the pursuits of science and 
religion abandoned ; every rank and relation overturned, and 
virtue banished from the abodes of men. Deserting all social 
beings, and forsaken by all, man would become a solitary mon- 
ster, wandering without plan or object, an enemy to himself 
and to his species. Anarchy and disorder would reign tri- 
umphant over the whole race of human beings, and the howl- 
ings of wretchedness and despair would re-echo from every 
land. 

Such a scene of moral desolation, selfishness and malignity 
have a natural tendency to create ; and such a scene they have 
actually created in our world, in so far as their influence has 
extended. The power of attraction has never been completely 
suspended in relation to our globe, nor has the moral Governor 
of the universe suffered the principle of love to be entirely 
eradicated from the minds of its inhabitants. But, as when 
the law of gravitation is counteracted in case of earthquakes 
and volcanoes, the most destructive and desolating convulsions 
ensue, — so it happens in the moral world, when the law of be- 
nevolence is trampled under foot. "Nation rises against na- 
tion, and kingdom against kingdom;" hostile armies encounter 
like tigers rushing on their prey; "firebrands, arrows, and 
death" are scattered in every direction ; a confused noise of 
chariots, and horsemen, and of engines of destruction is wafted 
on every breeze; garments are roiled in blood, and whole 
plains drenched with human gore, and covered with the car- 



136 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



cases of the slain. But wherever love diffuses its powerful 
and benign influence, there harmony, happiness, and peace are 
enjoyed by every rank of sensitive and intellectual existence. 
In every world where it reigns supreme, the intellectual faculty 
is irradiated, the affections are purified and expanded, trans- 
porting joys are felt, and, like the planetary orbs and their 
train of satellites, all shine with a steady lustre, and move on- 
ward in harmonious order, around the Supreme Source of in 
telligence, and the Eternal Centre of all felicity. 



SECTION VII. 

The preceding views corroborated by Divine Revelation* 

In the preceding sections I ha /e endeavoured to illustrate 
tne two grand principles of the Moral Law, and to demonstrate 
their reasonableness, and the necessity of their universal ope- 
ration, in order to the promotion of the happiness of the intel- 
ligent system. I have proceeded all along on the ground of 
revelation, as well as of reason, and the nature of things. But 
since these important principles form the basis of the system of 
religion, and of all the practical conclus ons I may afterwards 
deduce in the remaining part of this wc k, it may be expedi- 
ent to advert a little more explicitly to the declarations of 
Scripture on this subject. And here I propose very briefly to 
show, that it is the great end of Divine Revelation to illustrate 
these principles in all their various bearings, and to bring them 
into practical operation. 

This position is expressly stated by our Saviour himself, in 
his reply to the scribe, who proposed the question, " Which is 
the great commandment in the law?" "Thou shalt love the 
Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and 
with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. 
And the second is like unto it; Thou shalt love thy neigh- 
bour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all 
the law and the prophets." This declaration evidently 
implies, that it is the design of the whole of the Old Tes la- 
ment Revelation, to illustrate and enforce these laws, and to 
produce all those holy tempers which are comprised in the 
love of God, and of our neighbour. This appears to be the 
grand object of all the historical facts, religious institutions, 
devotional exercises, moral ma\ims* prophecies, exhortations, 



ILLUSTRATIONS FROM SCRIPTURE. 137 

promises, and threatenings which it records. The history of 
the formation of the universe, and of the beautiful arrange- 
ment of our globe, as detailed in the Book of Genesis, is cal 
dilated to display the wisdom and goodness of the Creator, 
and to draw forth our affections towards Him who is the Au- 
thor of our enjoyments, and who pronounced every thing he 
had made to be " very good." The history of the wickedness 
of the antediluvian world, of the dreadful effects it produced 
in the state of society, and of the awful catastrophe by which 
its inhabitants were swept from existence, and buried in the 
waters of the deluge, is calculated to illustrate, in the most 
striking manner, the guilt and the danger of withdrawing the 
affections from God, and of indulging a principle of malevolence 
towards man. The history of the crimes of Sodom, and of the 
fate of its wretched inhabitants ; the destruction of Pharaoh 
and his armies at the Red Sea ; the history of the idolatrous 
practices of the Israelites, of their murmurings in the wilder- 
ness, and of the punishments inflicted for their rebellion ; the 
fate of Korah, Da than, and Abiram, and of the worshippers of 
Baal: The destruction of the nations of Canaan; the judg- 
ments which pursued the Jewish nation, during the whole 
period of their history, on account of their defection from God, 
and the calamities which befel them at the period of the 
Babylonish captivity — together with all the other facts con- 
nected with the history of that people and of the surrounding 
nations, are intended to exhibit the dismal consequences, and 
the moral wretchedness which inevitably follow, when the 
affections of mankind are withdrawn from the God of Heaven, 
and left to grovel in the mire of depravity and vice. 

The institutions of the Jewish Church were appointed for 
promoting the knowledge and the love of God, and for ex- 
citing an abhorrence of every thing which is contrary to the 
rectitude and purity of his nature. Among the tribes that 
inhabited the land of Canaan, prior to the entrance of the Is- 
raelites, and among all the surrounding nations, the worship 
of false gods, the grossest superstitions, and the most abomin- 
able vices universally prevailed. It was one great end of the 
laws and ceremonies enjoined upon Israel, to excite the high 
est degree of abhorrence at every thing which was connected 
with idolatry, to portray its wickedness and folly, to rivet the 
affections of the people to the worship of the true God, to pre- 
serve them uncontaminated from the malignant dispositions, 
and the vile practices of the neighbouring nations, and to in- 
struct them in the nature and attributes of the Deity ; that they 
might be " a peculiar people to Jehovah, separated from all 

\%* 



138 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGIONS 



the people that were on the face of the earth." Hence, the 
following intimation and injunction are placed on the front of 
the moral code of laws delivered to that nation, " Hear, O 
Israel, the Lord our God is one LorJ. Thou shalt have no 
other gods before me." To promote harmony and affection 
between man and man; to enforce the exercise of justice and 
equity in all their dealings ; to inculcate chastity and purity of 
affection, kindness to strangers, compassion, tenderness, and 
sympathy; obedience to parents, charitable dispositions to- 
wards the poor and needy, and tenderness, and mercy, towards 
the inferior animals,, were the great objects of the various laws 
and regulations comprised in their moral and political code. 

The devotional portions of the Old Testament, particularly 
those contained in the book of Psalms, have the same general 
tendency. The descriptions of the work of creation and pro- 
vidence, the adorations of the majesty of the God of Israel, 
the celebration of the divine character and excellences, and the 
ascriptions of thanksgiving and praise for the mercy, long- 
suffering, and goodness of God, with which these divine com- 
positions abound, are calculated to raise the affections to 
Jehovah as the source of every blessing, and to inspire the 
soul with love, admiration^ and reverence. In many of these 
sublime odes, particularly in the 119th Psalm, the mind of the 
Psalmist is absorbed in meditation on the excellency of the 
divine precepts, and the happiness which the observance of 
them is calculated to convey to the soul. "O how I love thy 
law !" says David, " it is my meditation all the day. The law 
of thy mouth is better unto me, than thousands of gold anr* 
silver. I have rejoiced in thy testimonies as much as in aii 
riches." The moral maxims contained in the writings of Solo- 
mon are likewise intended to draw forth the desires after God. 
to counteract the influence of the depraved passions of the 
human heart, and to promote the exercise of candour, sincerity, 
justice, and benevolence among mankind. The exhortations, 
remonstrances, and denunciations of the prophets, were also in- 
tended to recal the affections of the people of Israel to the 
God from whom they had revolted, to show the unreasonable- 
ness of their conduct in " forsaking the fountain" of their hap- 
piness ; to display the purity, the excellence, and the eternal 
obligation of the divine precepts, and to warn them of the in- 
evitable misery and ruin which will overtake the workers of 
iniquity. In short, all the promises and threatening^ of the 
word of God, all the considerations addressed to the hopes 
and the fears of men, all the providential dispensations of God, 
all the manifestations of the divine character and perfections,. 



ILLUSTRATIONS FROM SCRIPTURE. 



130 



ana all the descriptions of the glories of heaven, and of the 
terrors of hell, have a tendency to illustrate the indispensable 
obligation of love to God, and love to all mankind, in order to 
secure our present comfort and eternal felicity. 

And, as it was the main design of the Old Testament 
economy to illustrate and enforce the principle of love to God 
and to man, so it is, in a particular manner, the great object of 
the Christian Revelation, to exhibit the law of love in all its 
bearings and practical applications. In one of the first ser- 
mons delivered by our Saviour, and the longest one recorded 
in the Evangelical History, the Sermon on the Mount, the 
main design, is to explain nnd enforce these principles, in re- 
lation both to God and to man, and to sweep away all' the false 
glosses which Ignorance and Prejudice had mingled with their 
interpretations of the Divine Law. In one part of this dis- 
course, our Lord declares, that we may as soon expect to sec 
" heaven and earth pass away," or the whole frame of the uni 
verse dissolved, as that " one jot or one tittle shall pass from 
the law." For it is a law founded on the nature of God, i* 
must be of eternal obligation, and can never be aorogated with 
regard to any class of rational beings, in consistency with the 
perfections of the Divine nature. As it is a law absolutely 
perfect, comprehending within its range every disposition and 
affection, and every duty which is requisite for promoting the 
order and happiness of intelligent agents, nothing can be taken 
from it without destroying its perfection ; and nothing can be 
added to it without supposing that it was originally imperfect. 
And, as it was intended to preserve the harmony and to secure 
the felicity of the intellectual beings that people the earth and 
the heavens, the fabric of universal nature must be destroyed, 
before this law can be set aside or cancelled. For we have 
already seen, (Sect. IV.) that, were it reversed, the whole in- 
telligent system would be transformed into a scene of con- 
fusion, misery, and horror. For the purpose of affording an 
immense theatre, on which the operations of this law might 
be displayed, the earth with all its furniture and decorations, 
and the heavens, with all their hosts, were called into exist- 
ence ; and, therefore, were it either cancelled or reversed, 
neither the glory of the Creator would be displayed, nor the 
happiness of his intelligent creation secured. The mighty ex- 
panse of the universe, enclosing so many spacious worlds, 
would become one boundless moral desert, in which no " fruits 
of righteousness" would appear, nor anv trace of the beauty 
and benevolence of the Eternal Mind. — In the same discourse, 
our Saviour enforces the duty of love *owards even our most, 



140 THE PHlLVttOPflY OF RELIGION. 

bitter enemies and most furious persecutors. "Ye have heard 
that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate 
thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies ; bless 
them that curse you ; do good to them that hate you ; and pray 
for them that despitefully use you, and persecute you. That 
you may be the children of your Father who is in heaven ; 
for he maketh his sun to arise on the evil and on the good, 
and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." This is one 
of the most sublime exercises of the principle of love, in refer- 
ence to our fellow-men ; and it is enforced from the most sub- 
lime motive and consideration — the conduct of Benevolence 
itself towards a race of rebellious and ungrateful creatures. 

All the other instructions of this Divine Teacher — his para- 
bles, exhortations, admonitions, warnings, and consolatory 
addresses, though referring to particular cases and circumstan- 
ces — had the same general object in view. When his disci- 
ples would have called for fire from heaven, to consume the 
Samaritans, he kindly, but with energy and decision, remind- 
ed them, that a principle of malignity was embodied in their 
unhallowed desires, which is directly opposed to the law of 
love. " Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of; for the 
Son of man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save 
them." Among his last instructions to his followers, when he 
was about to depart from the scene of his earthly pilgrimage, 
love was the grand theme on which he repeatedly expatiated. 
" A new commandment give I unto you, that ye love one ano- 
ther ; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By 
this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have 
love one to another." " These things I command you that ye 
love one another." 

And, as the promotion of the spirit of love was the great 
object of his instructions, so his whole life was an uninterrupt- 
ed exemplification of the purest benevolence, both towards 
friends and towards enemies. Never did that holy affection 
which unites the angelic tribes, and diffuses joy among the 
pure inhabitants of all worlds, appear, within the confines of 
our world, so amiable, so disinterested, and so ardent, as du- 
ring the period of the public ministry of Jesus, and particu- 
larly towards the close of his earthly career. In the immedi- 
ate prospect of sufferings, dreadful beyond our conceptions, 
his love to mankind was " strong as death'-' which the many 
waters of affliction which surrounded him were unable to quench. 
His whole soul seemed to be absorbed in affection towards his 
disconsolate disciples, and in a desire to cheer and animate 
their drooping spirits His last addresses, as recorded by the 



ILLUSTRATIONS FROM SCRIPTURE. 



141 



Evangelist John, brei.the a spirit of tenderness and compas- 
sion, and of Divine benignity, of which we have no parallel 
in the annals of our race. 

To display his kindness and condescension, and to teach his 
disciples to perform with cheerfulness the humblest offices of 
friendship, he rose from supper; he laid aside his garments; 
he took a towel; he girded himself; he poured water into a 
bason ; he began to wash the disciples' feet ; and he wiped 
them with the towel wherewith he was girded. He then ad- 
dressed them in such language as this : — " Let not your heart 
be troubled ; in my Father's house are many mansions ; I go 
to prepare a place for you. And, if I go and prepare a place 
for you, I will come again and receive you to myself; that 
where I am there ye may be also. I will not leave you com- 
fortless ; I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another 
comforter, even the Spirit of truth, which shall abide with you 
forever. Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, I will do it. 
Peace I leave with you ; my peace I give unto you ; not as 
the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be 
troubled, neither let it be afraid." In his last prayer, which 
accompanied these benedictions, the same ardent flow of affec- 
tion burst from his benevolent heart — "Holy Father! keep, 
through thine own name, those whom thou hast given me, 
that they may be one as we are." But his love was not con- 
fined to the select few with whom he was surrounded at this 
interesting hour. His mental eye surveyed the various tribes 
which people this department of creation — it pierced through 
all the succeeding generations of mankind — and he embraced 
in his expansive affections, the whole race of the faithful till 
the close of time. 44 Neither pray I for these alone; but for 
them also who shall believe on me through their word ; that 
they all may be one, as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee ; 
that they also may be one in us." Even towards his bitterest 
enemies his benevolent emotions flowed out, in earnest sup- 
plications for their forgiveness. Neither " the floods of un- 
godly men," which compassed him, nor the torrents of abuse 
which were poured upon him while he was nailing to the cross, 
could overpower that heavenly flame which burned in his holy 
breast. In the midst of all the mockeries, insults, and indig- 
nities which he endured, when he was made f'a spectacle to 
angels and to men," his affectionate desires ascended, with the 
smoke of the evening sacrifice, to the throne of God, in behalf 
of his murderers — "Father, forgive them; for they know not 
what they do." O, what a striking contrast is here presented, 
to those scenes of pride malignity, and revenge, which have 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



so long disgraced the race of Adam, and spread lamentation, 
and mourning, and terror, among families, societies, and na- 
tions ! What a happy world would this become, were it peo- 
pled with such amiable characters, and were all who profess 
to be followers of Jesus, instead of contending about 4i ques- 
tions which gender strife," to vie with each other in imitating 
his mild and benovolent spirit ! Then Christianity would ap- 
pear in its native lustre, and receive the homage due to its 
divine character ; and the name of Jehovah would soon be 
proclaimed throughout all the earth, and the joys of his salva- 
tion felt in every clime. 

Again, it is one great end of the death of Christ to destroy 
the principle of malignity in the human heart, and to promote 
the operation of the law of love. " While we were enemies 
(says the Apostle Paul.) we we were reconciled to God by the 
death of his Son." "We are sanctified through the offering 
of the body of Jesus Christ once for all." " He loved us, and 
washed us from our sins in his own blood." " They who 
were enemies in their mind, and by wicked works, he recon- 
ciled in the body of his flesh through death, to present them 
holy and unblameable, and unreproveable in his sight." Love 
to his heavenly Father, and love to mankind, impelled him to 
"humble himself, and to become obedient to death, even the 
death of the cross." And, in order that this divine principle 
might be kept alive, and form a bond of union among all his 
followers, he appointed an ordinance, consisting of sensible 
signs, in commemoration of his death, to be observed in all 
ages as a memorial of his love, and to remind his friends of 
the indispeosible obligation under which they are laid to love 
one another. To promote the same benevolent design, he 
arose from the dead, ascended to heaven, sent down the Spirit 
of Holiness to abide in the Church, and now presides in the 
celestial world as u a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance 
and the remission of sins." 

And, as the instructions and the example of Jesus Christ 
were calculated to exhibit the principle of love in ail its inte- 
resting aspects, and to promote its practical influence, so the 
preaching and the writings of his Apostles had the same im- 
portant object in view, as the ultimate scope of all their minis- 
trations. The one half of every epistle to the Christian 
churches is occupied in delineating the practical bearings of 
this holy affection. Like the lines which proceed from the 
centre to the circumference of a circle, the various radiations 
of Christian affection are traced from love, as the grand cen- 
tral point, and exhibited in ail their benign influence on indi- 



ILLUSTRATIONS FROM SCRIPTURE. 



i43 



viduals, families, churches, and the diversified relations which 
subsist in civil and Christian society. "Above all things," 
says the Apostle, " put on love, which is the bond of perfection. 
Though we speak with the tongues of men and angels, and 
have not love, we are become as sounding brass, or a tink- 
ling cymbal. And though we understand all mysteries, and 
all knowledge, and bestow all our goods to feed the poor, and 
have not love, it profiteth nothing. Love sufFereth long, and 
is kind; love envieth not, yaunteth not itself, doth not behave 
itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, 
thinketh no evil. Prophecies shall fail, languages shall cease, 
earthly knowledge shall vanish away, but love never faileth" 
" Love worketh no ill to his neighbour ; therefore, love is the 
fulfilling of the law. All the law is comprehended in this 
saying, namely, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. 
The works of the flesh," or those which flow from a principle 
of malignity, "are these: fornication, uncleanness, idolatry, 
hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, envyings, 
murders, revellings, and such like. But the fruit of the spirit 
is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, fideli- 
ty, meekness, and temperance." " Let love be without dis- 
simulation, and walk in love as Christ also hath loved us. Be 
kindly affectionate one toward another with brotherly love, in 
honour preferring one another. Distributing to the necessity 
of saints, given to hospitality. Bless them who persecute you ; 
bless, and curse not. Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and 
weep with them that weep. Husbands, love your wives, even 
as Christ also loved the church ; children, obey your parents 
in the Lord ; fathers, provoke not your children to wrath, but 
bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. 
Servants, be obedient to your masters, with good will doing 
service as to the Lord, and not unto men ; and ye masters, do 
the same thing unto them, forbearing threatening, knowing 
that your master also is in heaven." " Put on, as the elect of 
God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humble- 
ness of mind, meekness, long-suffering ; forbearing one an- 
other in love, and forgiving one another, if any man have a 
quarrel against any ; even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye." 

Such is the general scope of the instructions which the 
Apostles delivered, in all their communications to the Chris- 
tian churches, whether composed of Jews or Gentiles. And, 
had it not been for the strong prejudices of the Jews, and the 
erroneous conceptions of the Gentiles, which the Apostles had 
to combat, it is probable, that the whole of their epistles would 
have been solely occupied, in delineating the practical effects 



144 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF K£LIGION. 



of love to God, and to our brethren of mankind, and its glori- 
ous consequences in the future world. And, as it was the 
great aim of the apostles themselves, in their writings and per- 
sonal ministrations, to illustrate the numerous bearings of 
Christian Love, so they gave solemn charges to their sucessors 
in the work of the ministry, to make all their instructions sub- 
servient to the promotion of the same important object. Al- 
most the whole of the epistles addressed to Timothy and 
Titus, which relate to the duties and the objects of the Chris- 
tian ministry, has a reference, not to the discussion of meta- 
physical questions in theology, which " are unprofitable and 
vain," but to the illustration, and the inculcating of those prac- 
tical duties which flow from the spirit of love, and to the 
counteracting of those proud, malignant, and speculative dis- 
positions, which are opposed to the meekness and benignity 
of the gospel of peace. 

I might also have shown, by numerous quotations, that, in 
the general epistles of Peter, James, and John, the same grand 
object to which I have been adverting is steadily and uniformly 
kept in view. The first epistle of John is almost exclusively 
devoted to the illustration of the love of God and of man ; and 
on this theme, in which his soul appears to be almost entirely 
absorbed, he expatiates with peculiar energy and delight : 
" We know that we have passed from death to life, because 
we love the brethren. He that loveth not his brother abideth 
in death. Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer ; and 
ye know that no murderer hath [the principle of] eternal life 
abiding in him. Behold, what manner of love the Father hath 
bestowed on us, that we should be called the sons of God ! 
Beloved, let us love one another ; for love is of God : and 
every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. He 
that loveth not knoweth not God ; for God is love. No man 
hath seen God at any time. If we love one another, God 
dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us. If a man say, 
Hove God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar; for he that 
loveth not his brother, whom he hath seen, how can he love 
God, whom he hath not seen ?" It is recorded, by some an- 
cient authors, that when this Apostle was grown old, and un- 
able to preach, he used to be led to the church at Ephesus, and 
only to say these words to the people, Little children, love 
one another ." Such was the importance which this venerable 
Apostle attached to love, as the grand and governing principle 
in the Christian system. 

Finally, the procedure of the last judgment will be conducted 
on evidence, deduced from the manifestations of love. At 



ILLUSTRATIONS FROM SCRIPTURE. 



145 



that solemn period, when the present economy of Divine Pro- 
vidence shall come to a termination ; when the elements shall 
melt with fervent heat, and the great globe on which we tread 
shall be wrapt in flames ; when the Archangel shall descend, 
and sound an alarm with " the trump of God ; when the graves 
shall open, and give forth their dead ; and when all the gene- 
rations of men, 44 both small and great," shall stand before the 
throne of God ; the eternal destiny of all the millions of man- 
kind will be unalterably determined, on the ground of the 
manifestations which have been given of the existence and the 
operation of the principle of love, and of the affections and 
conduct to which it is opposed. "When the Son of man shall 
come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall 
he sit upon the throne of his glory. And before him shall 
be assembled all nations. Then shall he say to them on his 
right hand, Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the king- 
dom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. 
For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, 
and ye gave me drink ; I was a stranger, and ye took me 
in ; naked, and ye clothed me ; I was sick, and ye visited me ; 
I was in prison, and ye came unto me." And, though you had 
no opportunity of performing these offices to me in person, 
yet, "inasmuch as ye did it to one of the least of these my 
brethren, ye did it unto me." "Then shall he also say to 
them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed ; for I was 
an hungered, and ye gave me no meat ; I was thirsty, and ye 
gave me no drink ; 1 was a stranger, and ye took me not in ; 
naked, and ye clothed me not ; sick, and in prison, and ye 
visited me not. Verily, I say unto you, inasmuch as ye did it 
not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me. And these 
shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous 
into life eternal." For every one shall be rewarded according 
to his works.- — Such is the importance which will be attached 
to the influence of this holy affection over the human mind, at 
that " day of dread, decision, and despair ;" for it is quite obvi- 
ous, that every action here specified in relation to the righteous, 
is an effect of the love of God and of man presiding in the 
heart; and, therefore, if we shall ultimately be found destitute 
of this holy principle, we cannot expect the reward of the 
faithful, nor 44 have boldness in the day of judgment." 

Thus it appears that it is the great end of all the historical 
facts, the religious institutions, the devotional writings, the 
moral maxims, the instructions of the prophets, the warnings, 
exhortations, promises, and threatenings, comprised in the 
Jewish revelation, to illustrate and enforce the law of love in 

13 



146 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



its references both to God and to man — that it is explained 
and illustrated in the various instructions delivered by our 
blessed Saviour, and enforced by his example — that its numer- 
ous bearings and modifications are displayed in the writings 
of all the Apostles, and in their instructions to Christian teach- 
ers — and, that its existence in the heart, and its operation in 
active life, will form the decisive test of our characters at the 
final judgment. 



SECTION VIII. 

On the practical operation of Love, and the various modes in 
which it should be displayed towards mankind. 

We have already seen, that love is a most noble and expan- 
sive affection. It is not like a blazing meteor which dazzles 
the eye for a few moments, and then vanishes from the sight. 
It does not consist merely in a few transient emotions, and 
fruitless wishes for the good of others. It does not waste its 
energies in eloquent harangues on the beauty of virtue, in theo- 
rising speculations on the principles of morals, in framing 
Quixotic schemes of philanthropy, or in weeping over tales of 
fictitious wo. It is a substantial and an ever active principle; 
its energies are exerted for the purpose of communicating hap- 
piness to every rank of sensitive and intellectual beings, and 
the moral world, as it actually exists, is the grand theatre of 
its operations. I have already endeavoured to illustrate some 
of the modifications of this affection, in its relation to God;* 
and, in the preceding sections of this chapter, have occasion- 
ally adverted to some of its benignant effects in reference to 
man. It may, however, be expedient, in this place, to enter a 
little more explicitly into the practical operation of benevo- 
lence, and the various modes by which its influence may be 
manifested in relation to our brethren of mankind. 

The grand object which love proposes to accomplish is the 
communication of happiness. And, in order to stimulate and 
direct us in its operations, the character and agency of God 
are set before us as our examplar. There is not a more ami- 
able, attractive, nor comprehensive idea of the Divine Being 
any where to be found than that which is exhibited by the 



* See pages 85- 95. 



PRACTICAL OPERATIONS OF BENEVOLENCE. 147 



Apostle John, in three words— God is love. He is the eter- 
nal, uncreated Source of felicity, from which flow all those 
streams of joy which gladden the hearts of angels and archan- 
gels, cherubim and seraphim ; and whatever portion of hap- 
piness, sensitive or intellectual, is enjoyed by man on earth, 
and by all the subordinate tribes of animated nature, is derived 
from the same inexhaustible fountain. For the purpose of 
communicating happiness, he called the material universe into 
existence, to serve as an immense theatre, on which his bene- 
volence might be displayed to countless orders of sensitive 
and intelligent creatures ; and all the perfections of his. nature 
may be considered as so many agents employed for the execu- 
tion of this noble design. Impelled, as it were, by this essen- 
tial and characteristic affection of the Divine Mind, all the at- 
tributes of Deity are incessantly operating throughout the im- 
mensity of creation in the view of the inhabitants of all worlds. 
His Omnipotence is employed in supporting the worlds alrea- 
dy created, and in bringing new systems, and new orders of 
beings into existence ; and his Wisdom, in devising, selecting, 
and arranging those means which are requisite for accom- 
plishing the plans of benevolence. Towards those wretched 
beings who have abused his goodness, and wandered from 
happiness, his Mercy is proclaimed ; and his Patience and for- 
bearance are long exercised, in order to lead them to repen- 
tance, and to the paths of felicity. His Justice, conjoined 
with his power, is exercised for the purpose of restraining the 
efforts of malevolence, for preventing the inroads of anarchy 
and confusion, and for preserving the order and happiness of 
the intelligent creation. In this view, all the judgments, how- 
ever dreadful and appalling, which have been inflicted on the 
workers of iniquity in every age, have had a tendency to ac- 
complish the purposes of benevolence, in reference to the 
universal system. For, the general good of God's universal 
empire, considered as one whole, must be viewed as. the great 
end which benevolence is accomplishing, and the partial ex- 
clusions from happiness, which now happen in the case of cer- 
tain classes of moral agents, must be regarded as necessary ar- 
rangements subservient to this important end. His infinite 
Knowledge, extending to all events, past, present, and to come; 
and his Omniscient eye, piercing into the secret purposes of 
every heart, surveying the various tribes of men, and the cir- 
cumstances of all the worlds which float in the immensity of 
space, and comprehending the remotest consequences of all 
actions throughout infinite duration, enable Him, in every in- 
stance, to form those arrangements by which the objects of 



148 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



benevolence may be accomplished on the roost extensive scale, 
and by which the everlasting happiness of the holy and intel- 
ligent system may be most effectually secured. 

For the purpose of displaying his love to the moral intelli- 
gences of our world, he has given us a revelation of his cha- 
racter and will; he has exhibited his law as a law of love; he 
has promised the agency of his holy Spirit, to produce in us 
those dispositions which his law requires; and he has given 
the most affecting display of his love, in the mission of his Son 
into the world. " In this," says the Apostle John, " was mani- 
fested the love of God towards us; because that God sent his 
only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through 
him. Herein is love ; not that we loved God, but that he loved 
us, and sent his Son to be a propitiation for our sins. Be- 
loved, if God so loved us, how ought we to love one an- 
other?" 

Now, we are commanded in the Sacred Scriptures to be 
imitators of God in his benevolent operations, and especially 
in those cases in which love requires to surmount every obsta- 
cle, and to exert all its powers in opposition to hatred, enmity, 
and ingratitude. "Be ye perfect," says our Saviour, "as your 
Father who is in heaven is perfect. Love your enemies ; bless 
them who curse you; do good to them who hate you; and 
pray for them who despiteful Jy use you and persecute you. 
That you may be the children of your Father who is in heaven ? 
for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good ; and 
sendeth rain on the just and on the unjist." So that his ene- 
mies subsist on his bounty, and are cheered and refreshed by 
his providential care. In like manner, the operation of love 
on the part of man may be considered as the whole energy of 
an intelligent mind, directing its faculties of perception, judg- 
ment, reasoning, and imagination along with its physical pow- 
ers, to the production of happiness both among friends and 
enemies, so far as its influence can extend. In the prosecu- 
tion of this noble end* man becomes "a worker together with 
God," a subordinate agent in carrying forward those plans of 
Infinite Benevolence which will issue in the ultimate happiness 
of the moral universe. And as the Almighty, in his benevo- 
lent operations, preserves the harmony of the universe by cer- 
tain laws of order which he has established, as is apparent in 
the arrangement of the planetary system, and in the physical 
and moral economy of our terrestrial sphere; so it is the duty 
of man, in all the movements to which love impels him, to imi- 
tate his Creator in this respect, and to employ the intellectual 
faculties with which he is endued, for regulating the exercise 



PRACTICAL OPERATIONS OF BENEVOLENCE. 149 



of the benevolent principle, for adapting and proportionating 
jieans to ends, and for discriminating between rational and 
enthusiastic schemes of exertion; so that order may facilitate 
his movements, and that the greatest sum of happiness may 
result from his active endeavours. 

We may now attend more particularly to the practical ope- 
rations of love, and the objects towards which it should be 
directed. 

The principal objects towards which our benevolence should 
be directed are, intelligent beings; and in the sphere of action 
to which we are at present confined, man is the chief object 
whom we have it in our power to benefit by our benevolent 
exertions. Our benevolent affections, indeed, ought to expand 
towards all the holy intelligences of which we have any inti- 
mation; and, in another stage of our existence, we may have 
an opportunity of mingling with other orders of intellectual 
beings, and of co-operating with them in diffusing happiness 
throughout the universe ; but while we continue in this sublu- 
nary region, the improvement and happiness of our fellow-meri 
is the chief object to which our exertions must necessarily be 
confined; and when we view the present state of the moral 
world in all nations and climates, we behold a field of exertion 
sufficiently ample to employ all the energies of benevolence that 
have ever yet been displayed, or perhaps ever will be displayed 
during the existing economy of our world. 

Man may be considered in two points of view: as possessed 
of a body, which is susceptible of agreeable or disagreeable 
sensations and feelings; and, as endued with a mind, or spirit- 
ual principle, which is capable of perpetual improvement in 
knowledge and virtue, and which is destined to an endless ex- 
istence. In both these respects, love will exert its powers in 
meliorating the condition and promoting the enjoyments of 
mankind. In regard to his corporeal system,, man has various 
wants which require to be supplied, and he is subjected to va- 
rious sufferings which require to be soothed and alleviated. 
He stands in need of food, raiment, shelter from the blasts of 
the tempests, comfortable lodging and accommodation, light 
to cheer and enable him to prosecute his employments, pure 
atmospheric air to invigorate his animal system, and water to 
cleanse and refresh him. He is exposed to corporeal weak- 
ness and to mental imbecility; to pain, sickness, and disease; 
to the loss of sight, of hearing, and of bodily feelings; to tha 
decrepitude of old age, and to all those lingering disorders 
which terminate in dissolution. He is also exposed to tho 
fflictions occasioned by the loss of friends and relatives; to 

13* 



150 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



dejection of mind, to remorse of conscience, to doubt, de- 
spondency, and despair; and to a long- train of anxieties, vex- 
ations, perplexities, and troubles of various kinds. Now, in 
reference to the wants of mankind, love, when genuine and ar- 
dent, will endeavour to supply them wherever a deficiency is 
known to exist; and in reference to their calamities and sor- 
rows, it will use its utmost exertions to relieve and assuage 
them, in as far as its powers and influence can extend. In 
this respect, every one, however low his situation in life, how* 
ever limited the range of his knowledge, and however con- 
tracted the sphere of his influence may be, has it in his power, 
in a greater or less degree, to communicate blessings to his 
brethren of mankind. He can visit the sick-bed of an afflicted 
neighbour; he can supply a cup of cold water to cool his 
parched tongue ; he can wipe the sweat from his forehead; he 
can smooth his pillow; he can turn him round on his bed of 
languishing, that he may enjoy a more comfortable repose; 
and he can cheer him with those expressions of- tenderness and 
affection, which have a tendency above all other acts of kind- 
ness to soothe and revive the downcast spirit. He can assist 
his neighbour by his strength, or by his skill, by his counsel 
and advice, and by taking a lively interest in his concerns ; he 
can promote his joy by rejoicing in his prosperity and success, 
by assisting him in his employment, by rescuing him from 
danger, by forgiving the injuries he may have received, by ac- 
knowledging the worth of the skill, virtues, and endowments 
of which he is possessed, and by listening with patience and 
complacency to his sentiments, complaints, or grievances. He 
can even promote the happiness of his neighbour in a negative 
way, by not injuring him in his character or reputation; by 
not standing in the way of his prosperity or advancement ; by 
not thwarting him in his schemes and enterprises ; by not in- 
terrupting him in his innocent amusements ; and by refraining 
from every thing that would tend unnecessarily to injure him 
in his trade or profession. Such friendly attentions to pro- 
mote the comfort of his fellow-men, every one has it in his 
power to bestow; and upon such apparently trivial actions the 
happiness of mankind in general more immediately depends, 
than on many of those legislative arrangements which arrest 
the attention of a whole empire. For, were they universally 
performed, the greater part of the miseries which afflict hu- 
manity would disappear from the world. 

But, in cases where a high degree of intellectual talent, of 
wealth, and of influence is possessed, love is enabled to taka 
ft wider range in its beneficent operations, by endeavouring to 



PRACTICAL OPERATIONS OF BENEVOLENCE. 151 



counteract public evils, and to promote rational schemes of 
general philanthropy. When we take a survey 01 the condi- 
tion of the great mass of the lower orders of society, we find 
them labouring under many physical evils and inconveniences, 
which have a tendency to injure their health and their com- 
fort, and to obstruct their moral and intellectual improvement. 
In their private habitations, we find multitudes of them resid- 
ing in places where they are almost deprived of light and ot 
pure air, and surrounded with noxious effluvia, putrid smells, 
and every thing that is insalubrious and offensive to the senses. 
We find whole families packed into a narrow apartment of 
twelve feet square, in a narrow lane where the rays of the sun 
never penetrate, where the refreshing breeze is seldom felt, 
and where the beauties of nature are never beheld. In public 
manufactories we find hundreds of men, women, and children, 
with pale faces and emaciated looks, breathing a polluted at- 
mosphere half-poisoned with deleterious fumes, steam, smoke, 
or noxious gases. In large cities, we find numbers of children, 
through the carelessness and unprincipled disposition of their 
parents, left to wallow in filth and wretchedness, without even 
rags to cover their nakedness, and encouraged in the habits of 
pilfering, and of every other vice which can debase their minds 
and render them pests to society; and we behold others doomed 
to the degrading employment of chimney-sweeping, deprived 
of the attentions which flow from the tender affection of pa- 
rents, and subjected to the harsh treatment of unfeeling mas- 
ters. We behold multitudes of human beings torn from their 
families and their native land, cooped up in an infernal float- 
ing dungeon, carried to a foreign land, sold like cattle to an 
avaricious planter, and hsld in the chains of perpetual slavery. 
In reference to all these, ixid similar evils which exist in human 
society, love will exert its energies, either to alleviate or 
to remove them. It will induce one individual to investigate 
their causes, to point out the proper means of remedy, and to 
publish to the world the result of his deliberations and re- 
searches. It will induce another to apply the discoveries of 
natural science and the inventions of art to the purpose of im- 
proving the physical condition of mankind. It will induce a 
third individual, in conjunction with others, to form rational 
plans of melioration, and to organize societies to carry them 
into effect; and it will impel others to come forward with their 
wealth and influence to provide the means for carrying forward 
on the most extensive scale the plans of general beneficence, 
In short, the whole machinery of nature and art, of mind and 
matter, of religion and literature, of science and legislation* 



152 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



would be set in motion to promote the external enjoyments of 
mankind, were love a predominant principle in human society. 
Cottages on commodious and healthy plans would be reared for 
the industrious poor ; streets would be formed and gardens 
allotted them for their pleasure and accommodation; public 
manufactories would be arranged and regulated in such a man- 
ner as to contribute to health, to comfort, and to rational im- 
provement;* the children of the poor would be fed and cloth- 
ed, and trained up to habits of industry and virtue; employ 
ment would be provided for all classes of labourers and me 
chanics, and subsistence furnished when employment could not 
be procured; idleness would be universally discouraged, and 
honourable industry would be rewarded in such a manner as 
to afford, not only the comforts, but even many of the luxuries 
of life ; slavery in every shape, with all its injustice and cruel- 
ties, would be abolished, and rational liberty would be pro- 
claimed among all ranks and in every clime. 

Thus the man in whose heart love presides, takes a lively and 
sincere interest in every thing that has a tendency to promote 
the external comfort and welfare of his neighbour. He is 
compassionate and merciful, gentle and indulgent, kind and 
tender-hearted, generous and humane ; he feels for the sorrows 
of suffering humanity, and his wealth and activity are directed 
to relieve the distresses of the poor and the afflicted, to feed 
the hungry, to clothe the naked, to protect the widow and the 
orphan, to encourage honest industry, to meliorate the condi- 
tion of the useful mechanic, and to increase and extend his 
comforts and enjoyments. Of such a one it may be said, in the 
language of Job, " He is eyes to the blind, feet to the lame, 
and a father to the poor. When the ear hears him, then it 
blesses him ; and when the eye sees him, it gives witness to 
him; because he delivers the poor that cries, and the father- 

* Some may be disposed to insinuate, that such attempts would be al- 
together visionary, and could never be realized. But I would ask such 
persons, Have such schemes ever been attempted to be realized on an ex- 
tensive scale? Has the promotion of the health and comfort of the in- 
dustrious poor ever become a particular object of attention to the legisla- 
ture, to men of rank and influence, and to the whole class of opulent 
manufacturers? Is it not a fact, that while the acquisition of wealth is 
made the main object of attention, the melioration of the condition of the 
industrious labourer and mechanic is either altogether overlooked, or 
viewed as a very subordinate object of attention? He is generally left 
to shift for himself the best way he can, and left to breathe in an impure 
atmosphere without any particular sacrifice being made to remedy the 
evil. I venture to affirm, that were the comfort of the lower orders oi 
■ociety made as particular an object of attention as is the acquisition .of 
wealth, every obstacle to its accomplishment would soon be removed 



PRACTICAL OPERATIONS OF BENEVOLENCE. 153 



less, and him that hath none to help him. The blessing o* 
him that was ready to perish comes upon him, and he causes 
the widow's heart to sing for joy." 

But the activities of benevolence are not confined to the 
communication of sensitive enjoyments. Man is a rational and 
immortal, as well as a sensitive being; and the operations of 
genuine love will have for their ultimate object the promotion 
of his best interests as a moral and intellectual agent, and as 
an heir of immortality. 

When we consider man as an intellectual being, standing in 
various important relations to his God and to his fellow-crea- 
tures, we behold numerous evils which require to be remedied, 
as well as in the circumstances of his physical condition. 
Though the human mind is capable of vast expansion, of ac- 
quiring an immense number of sublime and interesting ideas, 
and of enjoying the purest pleasure in contemplating the objects 
which lie within its range, yet it is a melancholy fact, that in 
all ages, mental darkness has enveloped the great majority of 
our race; and that the grossest ignorance of the most import- 
ant truths, accompanied with the most degrading affections, still 
prevails among the greater pare of the population of every re- 
gion of the globe. We need not go to the frozen climes of 
Lapland and Labrador, to the filthy huts of the Greenlander 
and the Esquimaux, to the rude savages of Nootka Sound, to 
the degraded tribes of New-Holland and Van Dieman's Land, 
to the wild and wretched Boshemen and CafFres, or to the 
swarthy sons of Central Africa, in order to be convinced of 
this lamentable truth. W T e need only look around us among 
the various ranks of our own population, and we shall not fail 
to see ignorance, in all its diversified forms, exerting its malign 
influence over the minds of men, accompanied with supersti- 
tion, enthusiasm, bigotry, intolerance, and every grovelling 
affection that can debase the human mind. Multitudes of the 
young, both in the city and in the country, are suffered to shoot 
up from infancy to manhood, as if they were mere animal ex- 
istences, ignorant of the character and operations of God, of 
the duties they owe to their Creator and to one another, and 
of the eternal state of existence to which they are destined. 
Even in many of those places where instruction is attempted 
to be communicated, what a pitiful picture is exhibited of the 
results of education, and of the folly which attaches itself to 
the character of man ! The pronunciation of a number of un- 
meaning words, the reciting of passages which the young 
cannot understand, the repetition of a few propositions in re- 
ligion to which no ideas are attached, and the casting of a few 



154 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



accounts, are considered as sufficient to lead them forward in 
the path of knowledge and virtue; and are substituted in the 
place of those definite and luminous instructions which are 
requisite to expand the opening intellect, to convey distinct 
ideas to the mind, to unfold the scenes of creation and provi- 
dence, to display the character of God, and to train up the 
youthful mind to glory and immortality. 

Now, in reference to the ignorance which prevails in the 
world, love to man, as an intellectual being, will excite to ac- 
tive endeavours in order to counteract its influence. It will 
prove an excitement to the erection of seminaries of instruc- 
tion wherever they are deficient; it will patronize every scheme 
and every exertion by which knowledge may be increased ; 
and will diffuse mental illumination as far as the sphere of its 
influence extends. It will not rest satisfied with the form of 
instruction, without the substance; with the elements of lan- 
guage, without the elements of thought; with the key of know- 
ledge, without knowledge itself; but will devise rational plans 
for conveying substantial information to the minds of the 
young, so as to win their affections, arrest their attention, and 
carry them forward with pleasure in the paths of improve- 
ment. It will not offer them stones and ashes instead of 
bread, but will spread before them an intellectual feast, and 
" feed them with knowledge and understanding." It will not 
confine its attention merely to the instruction of the young, but 
vvill endeavour, by writing, by conversation, by lectures, by 
lending and circulating books, by establishing public libraries, 
and by organizing rational and scientific institutions, to diffuse 
the rays of intellectual light among men of all ages, ranks, 
and professions; and will never cease its exertions till igno- 
rance, with all its degrading accompaniments, be banished 
from society, and till the light of truth illuminate the inhabi- 
tants of every land. In a word, it will endeavour to render 
every branch of knowledge subservient to the illustration of the 
character and the revelation of God, and to the preparing of 
mankind for the employments of that nobler state of existence 
to which they are destined. 

Again, as man is possessed of an immortal nature, and in 
his present state of sin and degradation is exposed to misery 
in the future world, so it is one of the highest offices of love 
to endeavour to promote the eternal salvation of mankind. 
For the accomplishment of this important object, all its activi- 
ties are concentrated, and all its other labours are rendered 
subservient. To improve the physical condition of man as a 
sensitive being, and to enlarge his knowledge as an intellec- 



PRACTICAL ILLUSTRATIONS OF BENEVOLENCE. 155 



tual, while we overlook his eternal interests, is to neglect one 
of the most important duties of Christian philanthropy. The 
sensitive enjoyments of man are conducive to his happiness sc 
long as they continue ; and "knowledge is pleasant to the 
soul." But what are all the acquisitions and enjoyments of 
time, when compared with the concerns of eternity ! and what 
will they avail, if their possessor be found unqualified for the 
employments of an endless life ! If the soul of man be an im- 
mortal principle, and if the least danger exists of its being de- 
prived, through ignorance and guilt, of happiness in the future 
world, no words can express the importance which ought to 
be attached to this "labour of love." "What will it profit a 
man if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or 
what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?" And there- 
fore, the man in whose breast true benevolence resides, will 
consider the eternal happiness of his fellow-immortals as the 
grand and ultimate object which ought always to be kept in 
view, and will exert all his faculties, powers, and influence, 
in order to its accomplishment. He will not rest satisfied 
with prayers and wishes for the salvation of men; he will not 
wait for any extraordinary afflatus of the Divine Spirit ; but 
will prosecute with judgment and perseverance that course of 
active duty, which has a tendency to produce the desired 
effect. So far as the circle of his influence extends, he will 
endeavour to instruct the ignorant, to arouse the careless, to 
reclaim the dissipated, to convince the sceptic, to train up the 
young in the knowledge of God and in the paths of virtue, and 
to encourage and animate every one who is inquiring the way 
to eternal life. He will exhibit religion in its most amiable, 
and attractive, and sublime aspects ; and will endeavour to fix 
the attention on the lovely tempers, and the beneficial effects 
which the observance of its precepts has a tendency to produce. 
He will not make it his chief object to convert men to the be- 
lief of certain metaphysical dogmas in religion, nor to gain 
them over to embrace the peculiarities of a party ; but to pro- 
duce in their minds a cordial acquiescence in the plan of salva- 
tion which the Gospel exhibits, a reverence of the divine 
character and perfections, a desire to cultivate holy tempers, 
and a fixed determination to walk in the paths of God's com- 
mandments. 

Such a character will give every due encouragement by his 
advice and by his wealth to Christian churches, and to faithful 
And intelligent ministers of religion. He will patronize every 
rational scheme which has for its object to propagate the Gospel 
of peace among all nations. He will encourage the tramJa- 



!56 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



lion of the Scriptures into the languages of all kindreds and 
tribes; he will give countenance to societies formed for circu- 
lating the Bible in foreign lands; and he will assist in sending 
forth intelligent and philanthropic missionaries to barbarous 
and unenlightened tribes, for the purpose of diffusing the bless- 
ings of knowledge, civilization, and religion; and he will re- 
joice to co-operate in such benevolent schemes with all who 
sincerely wish to promote the best interests of their fellow- 
men, by whatever name they are distinguished, and to whatever 
section of the Christian church they may belong. 

In short, love, when genuine and ardent, will set itself in 
opposition to every species of bigotry and intolerance, and 
to all those petty jealousies and bitter animosities which have 
so long distracted the Christian church, which have thrown an 
odium on its character, and prevented the harmonious inter- 
course of the followers of Jesus. It will make every sacrifice 
consistent with the great objects of Christianity, and will use 
every appropriate mean to heal the unhappy divisions which 
exist in the religious world, and to promote an affectionate 
union of "all who love our Lord Jesus in sincerity in order 
that the church of Christ may form one compact harmonious 
body in opposition to atheists, sceptics, and the men of the 
world, and in order that every plan and effort to diffuse the 
knowledge and influence of the Christian religion may be car- 
ried more speedily and more extensively into effect. 

With regard to all the other branches of Christian morality, 
and to all the virtues which can adorn the human character, in 
every station and relation in life, they will be found to flow 
from the exercise of the principle I have now been illustrat- 
ing, as naturally as the sap flows from the trunk to the remotest 
ramifications of a tree, or as the gas which now illuminates 
our streets and churches flows from the main gasometer, 
through hundreds of pipes, to all the different burners. Sin- 
cerity and veracity in our words and actions, honesty and fair 
dealing in trade and commerce, fidelity to compacts and en- 
gagements, a regard to public liberty, an equitable adminis- 
tration of justice, condescension and kindness to inferiors, 
reverence and respect to superiors, submission to just laws 
and regulations, friendship, and a cordial interchange of 
friendly sentiments and affections; courtesy, civility, affability, 
harmony, and good neighbourhood; modesty, chastity, and 
discretion; forgiveness of injuries, hospitality to strangers, 
humanity to servants and dependants, compassion to the dis- 
tressed; parental, filial, and fraternal affection, sympathy 



PROGRESS CF BENEVOIENCE. 



157 



generosity, temperance, and fortitude, together with all the 
other social virtues which unite man to man, will as naturally 
flow from the fountain of love, when it exists in the human 
breast, as water flows from a reservoir, through all the pipes 
which distribute it to the inhabitants of a large city. For he 
who withholds the exercise of such virtues, or acts in direct 
opposition to them, can never be supposed to be sincerely at- 
tached to his fellow-creatures, or to consult their happiness; 
and the meaning of language must be inverted before we can 
apply to him the epithet benevolent ; and the order of the moral 
system deranged, before we can expect happiness to flow from 
such a conduct. 

The cardinal virtues have been arranged by some moralists 
under the heads of Prudence, Temperance, Fortitude, and Jus- 
tice. Prudence consists in judging what is best, in the choice 
both of ends and means, particularly in reference to our own 
interests, and to the good or evil which may result from our 
choice. Temperance is that virtue which moderates and re- 
strains the sensual appetites. Fortitude is that calm and 
steady habit of the mind which either enables us bravely to 
encounter the prospect of ill, or renders us serene and invin- 
cible under its immediate pressure. Justice is that virtue which 
impels us to give to every person what is his due. Now, it 
could easily be shown, that love is the impelling principle 
which excites to the exercise of all these virtues. It will lead 
us to pay a due regard to our own comfort and interest, but 
not so as to interfere with the interests or to obstruct the hap- 
piness of others. It will teach us to preserve the dominion of 
the soul over sense and passion, and to restrain the influence 
of the sensual appetites, from considerations drawn from our 
own happiness, and from the good of others. For, as intem- 
perance kindles the fire of resentment and the flames of lust, 
excites to boisterous words and to lawless actions, wastes the 
substance and reduces families to wretchedness and ruin, it 
must be directly opposed to the principle of benevolence. It 
will inspire us with a generous and heroic indifference to the 
precarious possessions of this mortal scene, and will excite to 
activity and perseverance in promoting human happiness, in 
the face of every difficulty and obstruction, and in spite of ob- 
stinacy and ingratitude, and of all the sneers and reproaches 
that may be thrown out upon us on account of the singularity 
of our conduct. And as Justice is nothing else than the mea- 
ture of benevolence, it will uniformly direct us to give to every 
one his due, and restrain us from withholding from our neigh- 
bour any thing to which he is entitled by equity or by law 



158 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



And in cases where the division of property is concerned, it 
will in many instances be induced to relinquish its right when 
only a few paltry pounds or shillings are at stake, rather than 
run the risk of dissolving the bonds of affection and friend- 
ship. 

The duties of morality have by other moralists, particularly 
by the moderns, been arranged into the duties we owe to God, 
as piety, reverence, and confidence; the duties we owe to other 
men, as fidelity, loyalty, humanity, and justice; and the duties 
we owe to ourselves, as chastity, sobriety, and temperance. 
From what has been already stated, both in this and in several 
of the preceding sections, it will obviously appear, that all 
these classes of duties necessarily flow from the operation of 
that primary, diffusive, and ever active principle, which resides 
originally in the Eternal Mind, and which pervades the minds 
of all holy intelligences. 

Finally, the man who is animated by the noble principle of 
benevolence, will endeavour to discharge with fidelity every 
social and relative duty, and will feel an interest in the domes- 
tic comfort and the moral and religious improvement of all 
around him. He will display the activities of this holy affec- 
tion more immediately in the family in which he resides, as a 
friend, a father, a husband, a son, or a brother; performing 
with punctuality all the duties which such relations include; 
promoting unity, harmony, affection, and a reciprocal inter- 
change of all those offices of kindness, which tend to secure 
mutual confidence, pleasure, and improvement. From the 
family, his affections will be diffused to the neighbourhood 
around, in all the forms of kindness, compassion, faith fulness, 
forgiveness, chaiit}', generosity, humanity, and justice. He 
will contemplate every member of society as a kinsm; n and a 
brother; he will feel a fraternal attachment; he will delight in 
his success and prosperity, and will endeavour to encourage 
the social virtues, and to multiply the sources of enjoyment 
wherever his influence extends. From the circle of his imme- 
diate neighbourhood, his affections will extend over all the na- 
tion to which he belongs. Its prosperity and aovancement in 
arts, sciences, and legislation, its peace and tranquillity, and 
the wisdom and rectitude of its rulers, will he the object of hi9 
fervent prayers to the God of heaven. To watch over its in- 
terests, to promote the improvement of its constitution and ita 
laws, to expose the intrigues of bribery and corruption, to re- 
sist the efforts of tyranny and ambition, and to defeat every 
encroachment on its rights and liberties, in a manly and Chris- 
tian manner, he will consider as a duty which he owes to hia 



PROGRESS OF BENEVOLENCE. 



159 



fclbw-subjects, to his rulers, and to succeeding generations* 
It will be his chief aim, not so much to prevent men from be- 
coming thieves, and robbers, and murderers, as to make them 
pious, virtuous, and useful members of the general community; 
that every one may live "a quiet and peaceable life, in all 
godliness and honesty." 

Nor will his benevolence be confined within the limits of a 
narrow-minded and selfish patriotism; — his affections will ex- 
pand to surrounding nations, and embrace the interests of every 
people, and will excite him to co-operate in every scheme by 
which civilization and science, liberty arid Christianity, may 
be promoted among all the tribes and kindreds of the earth. 
He will occasionally transport himself in imagination to distant 
climes, and to the islands scattered over the face of the ocean, — 
and the joy or sorrow which is felt in the hut of the Green- 
lander, in the Indian wigwam, or among the tents of the 
Tartars, will find access to his feeling heart. An inundation, 
an earthquake, the eruption of a volcano, a destroying pesti- 
lence, or the horrors of war, happening in Persia, China, or 
Japan, will not be viewed with apathy or indifference, because 
those countries are placed thousands of miles beyond the boun- 
daries of his own ; but he will sympathise in the sorrows of 
those distant sufferers, as well as in the calamities which befal 
his brethren in his native land. Nor will his affections be con- 
fined to the men of the present age, but will stretch forward to 
embrace the sons and daughters, of future times, who are des- 
tined to appear on the theatre of this world, in successive gene- 
rations, till time shall be no longer. The plans which he now 
forms, the ground-works of the improvements which he is now 
establishing, and the diversified operations of benevolence in 
which he is now engaged, will have, for their ultimate object, 
the diffusion of the light of science and of religion, and the 
communication of happiness, in various forms, to unnumber- 
ed multitudes of the human race, after his spirit shall have ta- 
ken its flight beyond the bounds of this terrestrial sphere. 
Nor will the current of his love towards fellow-intelligences 
be bounded by the limits of time, and the range of this sublu- 
nary system, but will run forward into those interminable ages, 
which shall succeed the dissolution of our globe, and will rise 
upward to the inhabitants of those glorious worlds which roll in 
the distant regions of creation. Contemplating the diversified 
scenes in which he may hereafter be placed, and the various 
orders of intellectual beings with which he may mingle, his 
soul will be transported at the prospect of entering upon a 
more extensive field for the range of his benevolent affections 



160 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



and of being qualified to receive and to communicate happi- 
ness on a more enlarged scale, in company with other holy 
intelligences, — where the field of benevolence will be continu- 
ally expanding, and the most exquisite delight springing up in 
his bosom, and ever increasing, as eternal ages are rolling on. 

Thus, it appears, that Benevolence is an expansive and an 
ever active principle, diffusing happiness in its train wherever it 
extends. Were an extensive moral machinery to be set in action 
by this powerful principle, it is impossible to describe what a 
variety of blessings would soon be distributed among mankind, 
and what a mighty change would be effected in the social state 
of human beings, and on the whole aspect of the moral world. 
And from what has been already stated, it is evident, that, al- 
though intellectual talent, wealth, and influence, have most in 
their power, as the prime directors of the moral machine, — 
yet there is no individual in whom this principle resides, how- 
ever limited his faculties, and his sphere of action, but has it 
in his power to communicate happiness to his fellow-creatures, 
and to become at least a subordinate agent in promoting the 
plans of universal benevolence. 



From what has been stated above, and in several of the pre- 
ceding parts of this work, we may learn, that, in order to ac 
quire a knowledge of our duty, and of the motives which 
should stimulate us to its performance, there is no need to en- 
gage in the study of voluminous systems of Ethical science, or 
to perplex the mind with laboured disquisitions on the prin- 
ciples of Morals. The general path of duty is plain to every 
one who is inclined to walk in it; and whoever wishes to be 
asssisted and directed in his progress towards moral perfection, 
will find, in the Proverbs of Solomon, the sermons of Jesus 
Christ, and the practical parts of the apostolic epistles, maxims, 
and precepts, and motives inculcated, infinitely superior in re- 
gard both to their authority and their excellence, to those of all 
other systems of moral philosophy, whether in ancient or in 
modern times. This seems to be partly admitted even by 
moral philosophers themselves. The celebrated Dr. Reid, in 
his "Essays on the Active Powers of Man," after a variety of 
learned and abstract discussions on active power, and the prin- 
ciples of human action, when treating on the theory of morals, 
says, "This is an intricate subject, and there have been vari- 
ous theories and much controversy about it in ancient and in 



MORAL SYSTEMS. 



161 



modern times. But it has little connexion with the knowledge 
of our duty, and those who differ most in the theory of our 
moral powers, agree in the practical rules of morals which they 
dictate. As a man may be a good judge of colours, and of 
the other visible qualities of objects, without any knowledge 
of the anatomy of the eye, and of the theory of vision ; so a 
man may have a very clear and comprehensive knowledge of 
what is right, and of what is wrong in human conduct, who 
never studied the structure of our moral powers. A good ear 
in music may be much improved by attention and practice in 
that art; but very little by studying the anatomy of the ear, 
and the theory of sound. In order to acquire a good eye, or a 
good ear, in the arts that require them, the theory of vision, 
and the theory of sound, are by no means necessary, and in- 
deed of very little use. Of as little necessity or use is what 
we call ike theory of morals, in order to improve oar moral 
judgment" — Reid, " On the Active Powers " Essay v. chap. 2. 

To a man who is familiar with the Scriptures, and whose 
mind has acquired a relish for the simplicity and excellence of 
the Christian code of morals, how cold, and frigid, and unin- 
teresting, do the laboured disquisitions of our most celebrated 
ethical writers appear ! There is little to be found in such 
writings to kindle the fire of holy love, and to inspire the soul 
with a noble ardour, in carrying forward the plan of divine be- 
nevolence. What powerful stimulus to exalted virtue can be 
expected from abstract discussions on active power, on liberty 
and necessity, on theories of moral action, on the reason and 
fitness of things, on self-love, on public and private interests, 
on the law of honour, and the like ; and of how little practical 
utility are the results of such disquisitions; since every prin- 
ciple of action, every motive, and every duty conducive to the 
happiness of the intelligent system, is laid down in the Scrip- 
tures, with a plainness and perspicuity, which render them 
level to the meanest understanding? And what shall we say 
of those moralists who teach us, that M modesty, humility, and 
forgiveness of injuries, " belong to the class of vices ;* and, by 
consequence, that pride, imprudence, and revenge, are t. *>o 
ranked among the virtues? Such virtue, alas! has too long 
prevailed in our degenerate world ; but were it universally to 
prevail, it would transform creation, into a chaos, and banish 
happiness from the universe. What beneficial practical effects 
have ever yet been produced by all the systems of ethics which 
have hitherto been published to the world ? Let us look back 



This sentiment is taught by Mr. Hume, and his follower*, 

14* 



4 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



on the nations of antiquity, on the schools of Plato, Socrates, 
Epicurus, and Zeno ; let us survey the conduct of our modern 
sceptical philosophers, and the practices of our youths who 
attend courses of ethical lectures in our universities and 
academies, and say, whether the general depravity of human 
nature has been counteracted, and a spirit of universal benevo- 
lence has been cherished and promoted by such instructions. 
I venture to affirm, that we are far more indebted to our Sa- 
vour's sermon on the mount, and to the practical writings of 
the apostle Paul, for that portion of morality which has given 
a polish to the manners of modern society, than to all the sys- 
tems of ethics, detached from Christianity, have ever been 
published by the philosophers either of Greece or Rome, or 
of the British empire : and that it is only by following out the 
instructions of these divine teachers that we can expect to see 
the world regenerated, and vice and iniquity banished from 
our streets. 

In throwing out the preceding hints, I have confined my at- 
tention chiefly to the intelligent creation. But it is evident, 
that where a principle of genuine love actuates the mind, it 
will extend its benevolent regards even to the lower orders of 
animated existence. Towards them the Creator has display- 
ed his benevolence* as well as towards man. He has framed 
their bodies in as curious and admirable a manner, as the bodies 
of mankind. He has bestowed upon them organs of sensation 
exactly adapted to the situations they occupy, and to their va- 
rious modes of subsistence. He has formed them with instincts 
which enable them to construct their habitations, to select their 
food, to protect themselves from danger, and to choose the 
fittest places for bringing forth their young. He has provided, 
in the different departments of nature, all that variety of food 
which is requisite to supply the wants of the whole of that im- 
mense assemblage of living beings which traverse the air, the 
waters, and the earth. "These all wait upon Him, and he 
giveth them their meat in due season." Their sportive mo- 
tions, their varied movements, and the delight with which 
they seem to exercise their faculties, testify, that they are the 
objects of the beneficence of their Almighty, though unknown 
Maker. So that God not only takes care of men, but of the 
fishes oJl the sea, the creeping insects, and the fowls of heaven, 
for " a sparrow cannot fall to the ground" without his provi- 
dential permission. 

This benevolent care of the Creator, which extends to the 
lowest o»rder of his creatures, instructs us, that our benevolence 
&bo should be displayed towards the inferior ranks of sensi-* 



BENEVOLENCE TOWARDS ANIMALS. 



163 



tive existence — that we should not only abstain from vexing, 
and torturing, and unnecessarily depriving them of existence ; 
but should endeavour to promote their comfort and enjoyment. 
It was the object of several of the laws delivered to the Jews, 
to inculcate compassion and humanity towards their domestic 
animals : and Solomon lays it down as a moral maxim, that 
" the righteous man regardeth the life of his beast." Benevo- 
lence will display itself, in the shape of tenderness and huma- 
nity, towards every creature that is endowed with fueling and 
sensation ; but it cannot be supposed to have a powerful influ- 
ence over that man who can wantonly torture a poor fly, lash 
a feeble old horse, wound a bird or a hare for mere sport, 
twirl a cockchafFer on a crooked pin, or even intentionally 
trample under foot a snail or a worm, that is doing him no IB- 
jury. The benevolent man rejoices in the happiness of all 
creation around him ; and, were this disposition universally 
prevalent, not only should we see cock-fighting, dog fighting, 
bull-baiting, and other cruel and degrading sports, forever 
abolished, but should form a more delightful intercourse with 
many of the lower animals than we have ever yet enjoyed. — 
The Arabians never beat their horses ; they never cut their 
tails ; they treat them gently ; they speak to them, and seem 
to hold a discourse ; they use them as friends ; they never 
attempt to increase their speed by the whip, nor spur them 
but in cases of great necessity. They never fix them to a 
stake in the fields, but suffer them to pasture at large around 
their habitations ; and they come running the moment they 
hear the sound of their master's voice. In consequence of 
such treatment, these animals become docile and tractable 
in the highest degree. They resort at night to their tents,, 
and lie clown in the midst of the children, without ever 
hurting them in the slightest degree. The little boys and girls 
are often seen upon the body or the neck of the mare, while the 
beasts continue inoffensive and harmless, permitting them to 
play with and caress them without injury. — Several species of 
birds have a natural attachment to the habitations of man ; but 
his malevolence prevents them from entering into any intimate 
and friendly association ; for they seem to be fully aware of 
his guns, and snares, and other arts of destruction, which make 
them shy, even in eases of necessity, of trusting themselves to 
his generosity and protection. How many amusing and in- 
structive associations might be formed with this class of ani- 
mals, if the kindness and benevolence of man were to secure 
their confidence I Even the beasts of the forest* the elephant* 



164 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



the lion, and the tiger,* have had their ferocious dispositions 
softened by kindness and attention, and have become the pro- 
tectors and the friends of man. 

Although the lower animals seem to be incapable of making 
improvement when left to themselves, yet experience has prov- 
ed, that, under the tuition of man. they are capable of mak- 
ing considerable advancement in knowledge, and in the ex- 
ercise of the benevolent affections. Kindness and affection 
will frequently soften the most savage and obdurate disposi- 
tions among mankind; and, it is not improbable, that a judi- 
cious and universal display of friendly attentions towards 
towards those animals which occasionally associate with man, 
would go far to counteract their malevolent propensities, and 
to promote their harmony and affection. I never was more 
delighted with an exhibition of animals than on a late occasion, 
when I heheld a cat, a bird, and a mouse, living in the same 
cage, in the most cordial harmony and peace — a fact which 
demonstrates that the strongest antipathies of the animal tribes 
may be overcome by the care and attention of man. And as 
such an experiment could not have been attempted with suc- 
cess, except when these animals were very young, it shows us 
the immense importance of an early attention to the training 
of our youth in habits of kindness and affection towards each 
other, and of humanity towards every sensitive being; and 
that it ought to be the great care of parents, nurses, and ser- 
vants, to counteract the first appearance of malevolent dispo- 
sitions in very early life, however trivial the circumstances in 
which such dispositions are manifesfed. 

The famous Baron Trcnck, when confined in his dungeon 
in Magdeburg, had so tamed a mouse, that it would play round 
him, and eat round him, and eat from his mouth. When he 
whistled, it would come and jump upon his shoulder. After 
his cruel keepers had given orders that he should be deprived 
of its society, and had actually taken it away blindfolded, it 
found its way back again to the door of his dungeon, waited 
the hour of visitation, when the door would be opened, and 
immediately testified its joy, by its antic leaping between his 
legs. This mouse was afterwards carried off, and put into a 
cage, where it pined, refused all sustenance, and, in a few days, 
was found dead. " In this small animal," says the Baron, 44 1 
discovered proofs of intelligence too great to easily gain belief. 
Were I to write them, such philosophers as suppose man alone 

* An experiment was lately exhibited, by the keeper of the animals in the Towei 
of London, which demonstrates, that even the tiger is capable of being tamed, and 
rendered susceptible of friendly feelings towards man. 



BENEVOLENCE TOWARDS ANIMALS. 



165 



endowed with the power of thought, allowing nothing but 
what they call instinct in animals, would proclaim me a fabu- 
lous writer, and my opinions heterodox to what they suppose 
sound philosophy." — A nobleman of France, a Count Lauzun. 
was condemned to a rigid imprisonment. Cut off from all hu- 
man society, and allowed no means of diverting his solitude, 
he made a companion of a spider, who had spun her web in the 
corner of his cell. He at length familiarized her so far, that 
she would come upon his hand, and eat from it a portion of his 
food which he gave her. The jailer, totally devoid of feeling, 
thought this too great an indulgence for the unfortunate pri- 
soner, and crushed the spider to death. 

Many such instances could be brought forward to illustrate 
the affection of the inferior tribes, and their capability of im- 
provement. But although they were entirely destitute of men- 
tal qualities and affections, as they are sensitive beings, sus- 
ceptible of pleasure and pain, the truly benevolent man will 
never intentionally inflict upon them unnecessary pain, and far 
less will he ever enjoy a savage delight, like some monsters 
in human shape, in beholding them writhing under the ago- 
nies occasioned by barbarous treatment. He will feel a joy 
in their comfort, and will endeavour to counteract their malig- 
nant propensities, and to train them up in those habits by 
which they may be rendered useful to man, and pleasing to 
each other. Were such a kind and humane disposition to- 
wards the lower animals generally to prevail, we might ulti- 
mately expect the literal accomplishment of those predictions 
recorded in ancient prophecy: — "In that day will I make a 
covenant for them with the beasts of the field, and with the 
fowls of heaven, and with the creepings things of the ground ; 
and I will break the bow and the sword, and the battle out of 
the earth, and will make them to lie down safely." 44 1 will 
cause the evil beasts to cease out of the land, and they shall 
dwell safely in the wilderness, and sleep in the woods." "The 
wolf shall dwell with the lamb: the cow and the bear shall 
feed in one pasture, and their young ones shall lie down to- 
gether; the sucking child shall play on the hole of the asp, 
and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder's den. 
They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain, saith 
the Lord." 

The remarks which have been stated in this section, in re- 
ference to the practical influence of the principle of benevo- 
lence, are intended merely as a few insulated hints in regard 
to some of the modes in which it may be made to operate. To 
illustrate ils operations in detail, and to trace its progress in 



166 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION* 



all its diversified bearings and ramifications, would be, to writd 
a Body of Practical Morality, which would fill several vo- 
lumes — a work which is still a desideratum in Christian litera- 
ture. I cannot conclude this chapter more appropriately than 
with the following excellent passage, extracted from Dr 
Bwight's " System of Theology." 

"The divine law is wholly included in two precepts : Thou 
skalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart; and thy neigh- 
bour as thyself. These are so short, as to be necessarily in- 
cluded in a very short sentence ; so intelligible, as to be un- 
derstood by every moral being who is capable of comprehend- 
ing the meaning of the words Gcd and neighbour; so easily 
remembered as to render it impossible for them to escape from 
our memory, unless by wanton, criminal negligence of ours; 
and so easily applicable to every case of moral action, as not 
to be mistaken unless through indisposition to obey. At the 
same time, obedience to them is rendered perfectly obvious and 
perfectly easy to every mind which is not indisposed to obey 
them. The very disposition itself, if sincere and entire, is 
either entire obedience, or the unfailing means of that exter- 
nal conduct by which the obedience is in some cases complet- 
ed. The disposition to obey is also confined to a single cjfec- 
tion of the heart, easily distinguishable from all other affec- 
tions, viz. love. Love, saith St. Paul, is the fulfilling of the 
law. The humblest and most ignorant moral creatures, there- 
fore, are in this manner efficaciously preserved from mistak- 
ing their duty. 

" In the mean time, these two precepts, notwithstanding their 
brevity, are so comprehensive as to include every possible 
moral action. The archangel is not raised above their control, 
nor can any action of his exceed that bound which they pre- 
scribe. The child who has passed the verge of moral agency, 
is not placed beneath their regulation : and whatever virtue 
he may exercise, is no other than a fulfilling of their requisi- 
tions. All the duties which we immediately owe to God, to 
our fellow-creatures, and to ourselves, are, by these precepts, 
alike comprehended and required. In a word, endlessly va- 
ried as moral action may be, it exists in no form or instance 
in which he who perfectly obeys these precepts will not have 
done his duty, and will not find himself justified and accepted 
by God." 



CHAPTER III. 



ON THE MORAL LAW, AND THE RATIONAL GROUNDS 
ON WHICH ITS PRECEPTS ARE FORMED. 

In the preceding chapters, I have endeavoured to illustrate 
the foundation of love to God, from a consideration of his 
attributes, and the relations in which he stands lo his creatures. 
I have also illustrated the rational grounds of love to our 
neighbour, from a consideration of the natural equality of 
mankind, of the various relations in which they stand lo one 
another, and of their eternal destination. The dismal conse- 
quences which would result from a total subversion of these 
laws, the beneficial effects which would flow from their uni- 
versal operation, their application to the inhabitants of other 
worlds, the declarations of Scripture on this subject, and the 
various modes in which benevolence should display its activi 
ties, have also been the subject of consideration. 

The two principles now illustrated, n ay be considered as 
two branches proceeding from the same trunk, and spreading 
into different ramifications. The fust four commandments of 
the moral law may be viewed as flowing from the principle of 
love to God, and the remaining six as ramifications of the 
principle of benevolence, or love to man. In the following 
brief illustrations, I shall endeavour to show the reasonable- 
ness of these moral laws in relation to man, from a considera- 
tion of the misery which would necessarily result from their 
universal violation, and of the happiness which would flow 
from universal obedience to their requisitions. 

These laws were published in the most solemn manner, to 
the assembled tribes of Israel in the wilderness of Iloreb. 
While Mount Sinai was shaking to its centre, and smoking 
like a furnace; while flames of (ire were ascending from its 
summit, and thick darkness surrounding its base ; while thun- 
ders were rolling in the clouds above, and lightnings flashing 
amidst the surrounding gloom; and while the earth was 
quaking all around, and the voice of a trumpet waxing louder 
and louder, — in the midst of this solemn and tenific scene, 
God spake the commandments with an audible articulate voice, 
in the hearing of the trembling multitude assembled round the 
mountain. A combination of objects ami events more awful 
and impressive, the human mind can scarcely conceive; com- 
pared with which, the pretended pomp of Pagan deities, and 



168 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



Jupiter shaking Olympus with his imperial rod, are lame, 
ridiculous, and proiane * and never, perhaps, since the com- 
mencement of time, was such a striking scene presented to 
the view of any of the inhabitants of this world. The most 
solemn preparations were made for this divine manifestation ; 
the people of Israel were commanded to purify themselves 
from every mental and corporeal pollution, and strictly en- 
joined to keep within the boundaries marked out for them, and 
not to rush within the limits assigned to these awful symbols 
of the Deity. An assemblage of celestial beings, from another 
region of creation, was present on this occasion, to perform 
important services, to swell the grandeur of the scene, and to 
be witnesses of the impressive transactions of that solemn day.* 
Moses was appointed as a temporary mediator between God 
and the people, to explain to them in milder terms the words 
of the law, and the further intimations of the divine will. Yet 
so terrible were the symbols of the present Deity, that even 
Moses was appalled, and said, " I exceedingly fear and quake." 
In order that the impressive words which were uttered on that 
day might not be forgotten in future generations, they were 
written on tables of stone with the finger of God. They were 
not simply drawn on a plane, like the strokes of writing upon 
paper, but the characters were engraved, or cut out of the 
solid stone, so that they could not be erased. They were not 
written on paper or parchment, or even on wood, but on 
stone, which is a much more durable material. 44 The tables 
were written upon both their sides, on the one side, and on 
the other were they written; and the tables were the work of 
God, and the writing was the writing of God, graven upon the 
tables. "t This was intended to prevent the possibility of any 
thing being added to the law, or taken from it. The tables 
were two in number, the one containing the precepts which 
inculcate love to God, the other containing those which enjoin 
the love of our neighbour. These laws, thus engraven on the 
most durable materials, were deposited in the most sacred part 
of the tabernacle, in the ark of the covenant under the mercy- 
seat. Ail the striking circumstances, now mentioned, were 

* Stephen says, that the Jews "received the law by the disposition, of 
angels." Grotius observes, on this passage, that the (Jreek preposition 
here signifies amidst, and that (diatagas agelong) denotes iroops of 
angels ranged in military order; and that there is a reference to Deut. 
xxxiii. "The Lord came from Sinai, and rose up from Seir unto 
them; he shined forth from Mount Paran, and he came with ten thou. 
Bands of his holy ones : from his right hand went a fiery law for tliem.''* 
t Exod. xxxii. 45. 



MORAL LAW. 



evidently intended to proclaim the Majesty and Grandeur of 
of the Supreme Legislator — the excellency and perfection of 
his law — that it is the eternal and unalterable rule of recti- 
tude — that it is of perpetual obligation on all the inhabit- 
ants of the earth — that it is the rule of action to angels and 
archangels, and to all other moral intelligences, as well as to 
the human race — and that the most dreadful consequences 
must ensue on all those who persist in violating its righteous 
precepts. 

The proclamation of this law was prefaced by these words, 
"I am Jehovah thy God," which contain a ground and reason 
for our obedience. They evidently imply, that he is the Self- 
existent and Eternal Being who brought the vast universe into 
existence, who 46 garnished the heavens, and laid the founda- 
tions of the earth," and peopled all worlds with their inhabi- 
tants — that he has sovereign authority to prescribe "i rule of 
action to his creatures — that he knows best what laws are re- 
quisite to preserve the order of his vast empire, and to secure 
the happiness of the intelligent creation — that he is the former 
of our bodies, the Father of our spirits, and the director of all 
the movements of nature and providence, from whose unceas- 
ing agency every enjoyment proceeds — and that all his regu- 
lations and arrangements are calculated to promote the present 
and everlasting felicity of all rational agents that submit to his 
authority. — That these laws are not mere acts of Divine 
Sovereignty, but founded upon the nature of things, and are 
calculated to preserve the harmony and order of the intelli- 
gent universe, will appear from the following illustrations and 
remarks. 

THE FIRST COMMANDMENT. 

Thou shalt have no other gods before me. 

All the commandments, except the fourth and fifth, are 
expressed in a negative form : But it is obvious, that every 
negative command includes a requisition of the duty which is 
opposed to the sin forbidden ; and those which are positive 
include a prohibition of the conduct which is opposed to the 
duty required. This first commandment, therefore, though 
expressed in the negative form, must be considered as includ- 
ing a positive injunction to love God with all our hearts, to 
offer a tribute of supreme adoration to his perfections, and to 
exercise the graces of hope, gratitude, submission, and reve- 
rence. Having already considered the precept in this point 
of view, (pp. 85 — 95,) it is only necessary, in this place, to 

15 



170 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 



attend, for a little, to the negative form of the command. The 
prohibition contained in this precept must be considered as 
extending not only to Polytheism, and the various object? 
of worship which have prevailed in the heathen world, but to 
every thing which is the object of our supreme affection and 
regard. 

It is a dictate of enlightened and unprejudiced reason, that 
the Being to whom we are indebted for existence, on whom 
we every moment depend, who directs the movements of the 
system of nature, who daily loads us with his benefits, and on 
whom our hopes of eternal felicity entirely depend — should 
be contemplated with the most ardent affection and gratitude, 
regarded as the most excellent and venerable of all beings, and 
recognized as the Supreme Legislator, whose laws we are 
bound, by every tie of gratitude, to obey. Wherever such 
sentiments and affections pervade the mind, they constitute 
the first principles of piety, the source of all holy obedience, 
and the foundation of all true happiness. Were they univer- 
sally felt, and acted upon by human beings, the Most High 
God, would be adored in every land, his image would be im- 
pressed on every heart, his righteous law would never be 
violated, grovelling desires and affections would be eradicated, 
and our world would be transformed into an abole of felicity, 
where joys similar to those of angels would succeed to scenes 
of wretchedness and wo. 

On the other hand, where the unity and the attributes of the 
divine Being are not recognized, and where oilier objects are 
substituted in his place, the foundations of religion, and of 
moral order are completely subverted, and a door opened for 
the introduction of every absurdity, immorality, and vile 
abomination, that can degrade a rational intelligence. The 
command under consideration is placed on the front of tho 
divine law as the foundation of all the other precepts; and, 
therefore, wherever it is violated, or not recognized, a regu- 
lar obedience to the other subordinate injunctions of religion 
is not, in the nature of things, to be expected. Were its vio- 
lation, in our world, complete and universal, it is impossible 
to say what would be the miserable condition of human beings 
in their social capacity. To its general violation, may be 
traced all the evils under which humanity has groaned in every 
age, and all the depraved passions, and shocking immorali- 
ties which now disfigure the aspect of the moral world. 

There is nothing that appears more prominent in the history 
and the character of almost every nation under heaven, than 
an infringement of this first and fundamental law of the Crea 



MORAL LAW. 



171 



for. A rational and enlightened mind, on the first eonsid^ra- 
t on of this subject, would be apt to surmise, that such a la\? 
is almost superfluous and unnecessary. There is such an im» 
mense disproportion between a block of marble, or a crawling 
reptile, and that Being who supports the system of universal 
nature, that it appears, at first view, next to impossible, that a 
reasonable being should ever become so stupid and degraded* 
as to substitute the one for the other, and to offer his adora- 
tions to an object completely devoid of life, power, and intel- 
ligence. Yet experience teaches us, that there is no disposi- 
tion to which the human mind is more prone than " to depart 
from the living God," and to multiply objects of idolatrous 
worship. This will appear, if we take but the slightest glance 
of the objects of adoration which have prevailed, and which 
still prevail in the pagan world. 

At one period of the world, with the single exception of 
the small nation of the Jews, idolatry overspread the face of 
the whole earth. And how numerous and degrading were the 
objects which the blinded nations adored ! We are informed, 
by Hesiod, Varro, and other ancient authors, that no less than 
thirty thousand subordinate divinities were comprised within 
that system of idolatry which prevailed among the Greeks and 
Romans. They had both celestial and terrestrial deities. 
They assigned peculiar gods to the fountains, the rivers, the 
hills, the mountains, the lawns, the groves, the sea, and even 
to hell itself. To cities, fields, houses, edifices, families, gates, 
nuptial chambers, marriages, births, deaths, sepulchres, trees, 
and gardens, they also appropriated distinct and peculiar dei- 
ties. Their principal celestial deities were Jupiter, Mais, 
Mercury, Apollo, Bacchus, Venus, Juno, and Minerva— their 
terrestrial, Saturn, Ceres, Diana, Neptune, Cybele, Proserpine 
and Pluto. Their chief idol was Jupiter, whom they called 
the father of gods and men ; and under his authority, Neptune 
had the jurisdiction of the sea, Juno, of the air, Cybele, of the 
earth, and Pluto, of the realms below. Instead of worship- 
ping the living and immortal God, they deified a host of dead 
men, called heroes, distinguished for nothing so much, as for 
murder, adultery, sodomy, rapine, cruelty, drunkenness, and 
all kinds of debauchery. To such contemptible divinities, 
splendid temples were erected,* adorations addressed, costly 

* The temple of Diana at Ephesus, has been always admired as one 
of the noblest pieces of architecture that the world ever produced. It 
was 425 feetlong, 200 feet broad, and supported by 127 columns of marblo 
60 feet high ; 27 of which were beautifully carved. Diodorus Siculu» 
mentions, that the rich presents made to the temple of Apollo at Delphoa, 
amounted to one million, three hundred and thirty-three thousand pounds* 



172 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



offerings presented, and rites and ceremonies performed, sub- 
versive of every principle of decency and morality, and degrad- 
ing to the reason and the character of man. — A system of 
idolatry of a similar kind, though under a different form, pre- 
vailed among the Egyptians. The meanest and the most con- 
temptible objects — sheep, cats, bulls, dogs, cows, storks, apes, 
vultures, and other birds of prey; wolves, and several sorts 
of oxen, were exalted as objects of adoration. "If you go 
into Egypt," says Lucian, 44 you will see Jupiter with the face 
of a ram, Mercury as a fine dog, Pan, is become a goat ; ano- 
ther god is Ibis, another the crocodile, and another the ape. 
There, many shaven priests gravely tell us, that the gods, 
being afraid of the rebellion 01 the giants, assumed these 
shapes." Each city and district in Egypt entertained a pecu- 
liar devotion for some animal or other, as the object of its 
adoration. The city of Lentopolis worshipped a lion ; the 
city of Mendez, a gx>at; Memphis, the Apis; and the peoplo 
at the lake Myris* adored the crocodile. These animals were 
maintained, in or near their temples, with delicate meats ; 
were bathed, anointed, perfumed, had beds prepared for them; 
and when any of them happened to die, sumptuous funerals 
were prepared in honour of the god. Of all these animals, 
the bull, Apis, was held in the greatest veneration. Honours 
of an extraordinary kind were conferred on him while he lived, 
and his death gave rise to a general mourning. 
. Sirch was the abominable idolatry that prevailed even among 
the most enlightened nations of antiquity. They changed the 
glory of the incorruptible God into "-the similitude of an ox 
that eateth grass," and into images made like to corruptible 
man and to birds, and to four-footed beasts, and creeping 
things. And if the Egyptians, the Greeks, and the Romans, 
w 7 ho are distinguished from the rest of the world for their 
improvements in literature, science, and the arts, had so far 
renounced their allegiance to the God of heaven, we may rest 
assured that the surrounding nations were sunk still farther 
into the pollutions of idolatry and of mental debasement. 
The Phenicians, the Syrians, the Canaanites, the Chaldeans 
and Babylonians, the Arabians, the Scythians, the Ethiopians, 
nnd the Carthaginians, the ancient Gauls, Germans, and Bri- 
tons,, were, if possible, more deeply debased; and mingled 
with their idolatrous rites, many cruel, obscene, and vile 
abominations. — Such is still the moral and religious debase- 
ment, even in modern times, of the greater part of the nations 
which dwell upon the earth. Even the Hindoos, the Birmans, 
the Chinese, the Persians and the Japanese, though ranked 



MORAL LAW. 



173 



among the most polished nations of the heathen world, are 
sunk into the grossest ignorance of the true God, and are 
found perpetrating, in their religious worship, deeds revolting 
to humanity, and stained with horrid cruelty and injustice. 

The moral effects which were produced by a departure 
from this fundamental law of the Creator, were such as cor- 
respond with the abominations of that religious system which 
was adopted. Man is an imitative being ; and he generally 
imitates the actions of those whom he conceives to be placed 
in a superior rank and station. When, therefore, the gods 
were introduced to his view, as swollen with pride, mad with 
rage, fired with revenge, inflamed with Just, engaged in wars, 
battles, and contests, delighting in scenes of blood and rapine, 
in hatred and mutual contentions, and in all kinds of riot and 
debauchery, it was natural to suppose that such passions and 
crimes would be imitated by their blinded votaries. Accord- 
ingly we find, that such vices universally prevailed, even 
among the politest nations of antiquity ; and some of theii 
sacred rites, solemnized in honour of their gods, were so 
bestial and shocking, as to excite horror in every mind pos- 
sessed of the least sense of decency and virtue. They gloried 
in the desolation and destruction of neighbouring nations. 
To conquer, and oppress, and enslave their fellow-men, and to 
aggrandize themselves by slaughter and rapine, was the great 
object of their ambition. The Jaw of kindness and of univer- 
sal benevolence was trampled under foot, and even the com- 
mon dictates of humanity, equity, and justice, were set at 
defiance. But this was not all — Idolatry soon began to insti- 
gate its votaries to the perpetration of the most revolting and 
unnatural cruelties Dreadful tortures were inflicted on their 
bodies, to appease their offended deities ; human victims, in 
vast numbers, were sacrificed, and even their infants and little 
children were thrown into the flames, as an offering to the 
idol which they adored. 

The Mexicans were accustomed to treat themselves with 
the most inhuman austerities, thinking that the diabolical rage 
of their deities would be appeased by human blood. " It makes 
one f % udder," says Cla vigero, "to read the austerities which they 
pre cised upon themselves, either in atonement for their trans- 
gr '£ions, or in preparation for their festivals. They mangled 
U .«r flesh as if it had been insensible, and let their blood run 
in such profusion, as if it had been a superfluous fluid in the 
body. They pierced themselves with the sharpest spines of 
the aloe, and bored several parts of their bodies, particularly 
their ears, lips, tongues, and the fat of their arms and legs." 



174 THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 

The priests of Baal, we are told, in the book of Kings, "cut them- 
selves with knives and lancets, till the blood gushed out upon 
them." When the Carthaginians were vanquished by Agatho- 
cles, king of Sicily, they conceived that their god, Jupiter La- 
tialis was displeased with their conduct. In order to appease 
him, and propitiate his favour, they sacrificed to him, at once, 
two hundred sons of the first noblemen of their state. On the 
altars of Mexico, twenty thousand human beings are said to 
nave been sacrificed every year; and fifty thousand were annu- 
ally offered up in the various parts of that empire, accompanied 
with circumstances of such dreadful cruelty and horror, as 
makes us shudder at the recital. In Hindostan, even at the 
present day, several thousands of women are annually burned 
on the funeral piles of their deceased husbands, as victims to 
the religion they profess ; besides multitudes of other human 
t'^ctims, which are crushed to death under the wheels of that 
infernal engine which supports the idol Juggernaut. Were 
the one-hundredth part of the abominations which have been 
perpetrated under the system of idolatry, in those countries 
where it has prevailed, to be fully detailed, it would exhibit a 
picture of depravity and of infernal agency, at which the hu- 
man mind would shrink back with horror; and would form a 
striking commentary on the divine declaration, that " the dark 
places of the earth are full of the habitations of horrid 
cruelty." 

It appears, then, that a violation of the first precept of the 
moral law is the greatest crime of which a rational creature 
can be guilty ; for it is the source of all the other crimes -which 
have entailed wretchedness on mankind, and strewed the earth 
with devastation and carnage. It is a comprehensive summa- 
ry of wickedness ; which includes pride, falsehood, blasphe- 
my, malignity, rebellion, hatred of moral excellence, and the 
basest ingratitude towards Him from -whom we derived our 
being, and on whom we depend for ail our enjoyments. It is 
a crime which, above all others, has a tendency to degrade the 
character of man; for where it abounds, the human mind is 
sunk into the lowest state, both of moral and of intellectual de- 
basement. What a pitiful and humiliating sight is it, and 
what emotions of astonishment must it excite in the mind of 
an archangel, to behold a rational and immortal intelligence 
cutting down an oak in the forest, burning part of it in the fire, 
baking bread, and roasting flesh upon its embers, and forming 
the residue of it into an idol, falling down and worshipping it, 
%nd saying, "Deliver me, for thou art my God !"* And whre 



* Se* Isaiah xlv. 9—21. 



MORAL LAW. 



175 



we behold the same degraded mortal sacrificing the children oi 
Ms own bowels before this stump of a tree, can we refrain 
from exclaiming, in the language of the prophet, "Be asto- 
nished, O ye heavens, at this; and be ye horribly afraid!" 
Were idolatry to become universal in the world, there is no 
crime, no species of cruelty, no moral abomination within the 
compass of the human heart to devise, but would soon be per- 
petrated without a blush, in the open face of day. Had not 
God, in ills mercy, communicated a revelation of his will, in 
order to counteract the influence of Pagan theology, — instead 
of cultivating the powers of our minds, and expanding our 
conception of the Almighty, by a contemplation of his word 
and works, we might, at this moment, have been sunk into the 
lowest depths of moral degradation, been prostrating ourselves, 
in adoration, before a stupid ox or a block of marble, and sa- 
crificing our sons and daughters to an infernal Moloch. It is 
one of the glories of Revelation, and a strong proof its divine 
origin, that all its promises and threatenings, its admonitions 
and reproofs, its doctrines, its laws and ordinances, are directly 
opposed to every idoletrous practice; and that there is not a 
single instance in which the least countenance is given to any 
of the abominations of the Pagan world. 

In the present age, and in the country in which we reside, 
we are in little danger of relapsing into the practices to which 
1 have now adverted. But idolatry is not confined to the ado- 
ration of Pagan divinities : it has its seat in every heart where 
God is banished from the thoughts, and where pride, ambition, 
and avarice occupy the highest place. " Covetausness" or 
an inordinate love of wealth, is declared by the Apostle Paul 
to be "idolatry ; u and such mental idolatry, though more re 
fined than that of the heathen world, is almost equally abhor- 
rent to the Divine Being, and equally subversive of the grand 
principles of Christian morality. If the acquisition of wealth 
and riches be the constant and supreme aim of any individual. 
Mammon is the god whom he regularly worships, aiad the God 
of heaven is dethroned from his seat in the affections. Such 
moral effects as the following are the natural results of this 
species of idolatry : It steels the heart against every benevo- 
lent and generous emotion ; it shuts the ears to the cries of 
the poor and needy; it engenders cheating, falsehood, and de- 
ceit; it prevents the man in whom it predominates from exert- 
ing his active powers, and from contributing of his wealth to 
promote the happiness of mankind; it chains down his noble 
faculties to the objects of time and sense; it leads him to love 
and to serve himself more than the Creator; it wraps him up 



176 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



ii selfishness, and an indifference to the concerns of all other 
neings; it destroys the principles of equity and justice; it 
blunts the feelings of humanity and compassion; and prevents 
him from attending to the salvation of his soul, and from look- 
ing at those things which are unseen and eternal. And in 
every other case where a similar principle holds the supreme 
seat in the affections, similar effects will be produced. 

THE SECOND COMMANDMENT. 

Them shalt not make unto thee any graven image, ncr any like 
ness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the 
earth beneath, or that is in the waters under the earth: thou 
shalt net bow down thyself to them, nor serve them. 

The first commandment, which I have illustrated above, re- 
spects the object of our worship; forbidding us to substitute 
any other being in the room of God, or to offer it that homage 
which is due to the eternal Jehovah. This second command- 
ment respects the manner in which he is to be worshipped. 
And in regard to the manner in which the Divine Being is to 
be contemplated and adored, it is expressly declared, that no 
image nor representation of this incomprehensible Being is at 
any time, or on any account, to be formed. This command, 
like the former, n«ght at first sight appear to be unnecessary, 
if the almost universal practice of mankind had not taught us 
that there is no disposition which the human mind is more apt 
to indulge, than to endeavour to bring the invisible Divinity 
within the range of our senses, and to contemplate him as such 
a one as ourselves. The necessity of this injunction, its rea- 
sonableness, and the folly and absurdity of the practice against 
which it is directed, will appear from the following considera- 
tions. 

The Divine Being fills the immensity of space with his pre- 
sence, and to his essence we can set no bounds. He inhabited 
eternity, before the earth or the heavens were brought into 
existence, rejoicing in the contemplation of his own excel 
lences, and in the future effects of his power and benevolence. 
He is a spiritual uncompounded substance, and consequently 
invisible to mortal eyes, and impalpable to every other organ 
of sensation. His omnipotence neither man nor angel can 
scan, nor can they explore the depths of his wisdom and intel- 
ligence. When universal silence and solitude reigned through 
out the infinite void — when not a sound was heard nor an ob 
ject seen within the immeasurable extent of boundless space — 



IMAGE WORSHIP. 



177 



at his command, worlds, numerous as the sand, started into 
being. Thousands of suns diffused their splendours through 
the regions of immensity; the ponderous masses of the pla- 
netary globes were launched into existence, and impelled in 
their rapid courses through the sky; their surfaces were 
adorned with resplendent beauties, and replenished with my- 
riads of delighted inhabitants. The seraphim and the cherubim 
began to chaunt their hymns of praise, and "shouted for joy" 
when they beheld new worlds emerging from the voids of 
space. Life, motion, activity, beauty, grandeur, splendid illu- 
mination, and rapturous joy, among unnumbered intelligences, 
burst upon the view, where a little before nothing appeared 
but one immense, dark, and cheerless void. And ever since 
duration began to be measured, either in heaven or on earth, 
by the revolutions of celestial orbs, the same omnipotent en- 
ergy has been incessantly exerted in directing the movements 
of all worlds and systems, and in upholding them in their vast 
career. Of a being invested with attributes so glorious and 
incomprehensible, with power so astonishing in its effects, with 
goodness so boundless, and w ith wisdom so unsearchable, what 
image or representation can possibly be formed which will 
not tend to contract our conceptions, and to debase the charac- 
ter of the infinite and eternal Mind ! " To whom will ye liken 
me, or shall I be equal, saith the Holy One." 

When a person of dignity and of respectability of character 
is caricatured, and associated with objects and circumstances 
that are mean, ridiculous, and grotesque, it has a tendency to 
degrade his character, and to lessen our veneration. For the 
respect we entertain for any individual is founded on the view 
we take of him in all the aspects in which he may be contem- 
plated. For a similar reason, every attempt to represent the 
Divine Majesty by sensible images, must have a tendency to 
narrow our conceptions of his glory, to debase his character 
and to lessen our reverence and esteem. What possible simili- 
tude can there be between that mighty being, who by his word 
lighted up the sun, and diffused ten thousands of such immense 
luminaries through the regions of creation, whose hand wields 
the planets, and rolls them through the tracts of immensity; 
between him who "meteth out the heavens with a span, and 
holds the ocean in the hollow of his hand,' 1 and the most re- 
splendent image that was ever formed by human hands ! Even 
the sun himself, with all his immensity of splendour, although 
our minds were expanded to comprehend his vast magnificence, 
would form but a poor and pitiful image of Him, whose breath 
has kindled ten thousand times ten thousand suns. How much 



178 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



less can a block of marble or a stupid ox adumbrate the glo 
ries of the King eternal, immortal, and invisible ! It will doubt- 
less redound to the eternal disgrace of the human character, in 
every region of the universe where it is known, that ever such 
an impious attempt was made by the inhabitants of our dege- 
nerate world, as to compare the glory of the incorruptible God 
to an image made like to corruptible man. Wherever such 
attempts have been made, there we behold human nature in 
its lowest state of debasement; the intellectual faculties dark- 
ened, bewildered, and degraded ; the moral powers perverted 
and depraved ; grovelling affections predominating over the 
dictates of reason, and diabolical passions raging without con- 
trol. Kenee, too, the debasing tendency of all those attempts 
which have been made to introduce into the Christian church, 
pictures and images, to represent "The invisible things of 
God," and the sufferings of the Redeemer. For, wherever 
such practices prevail, the minds of men will generally be 
found to entertain the grossest conceptions of the Divine Be- 
ing, and of the solemn realities of religion. 

But the principal reason why any representation of God is 
expressly forbidden in this commandment, is, that whenever 
such a practice Commences, it infallibly ends in adoring the 
image itself, instead of the object it was intended to represent. 
Or, in other words, the breach of this commandment necessa- 
riby and uniformly leads to a breach of the first. Notwith- 
standing the shock which the human mind appears to have 
received by the fall, it is altogether inconceivable, that any 
tribe of mankind should have been so debased and brutalized, 
as, in the first instance, to mistake a crocodile, or the stump 
of a tree, however beautifully carved, for the Creator of hea- 
ven and earth. Such objects appear to have been first used 
as symbols or representations of the Deity, in order to assist 
the mind in forming a conception of his invisible attributes. 
But as they had a direct tendency to debase the mind, and to 
obscure the glory of the Divinity, in process of time they 
began to be regarded by the ignorant multitude as the very gods 
themselves, winch they were at first intended to represent; and 
that tribute of adoration was paid to the symbol itself, which 
was originally intended to be given to the invisible God, 
through this sensible medium. And, when we contemplate 
kings and princes, poets and philosophers, heroes and sages, 
young men and virgins, old men and children," whole pro- 
vinces, nations, and continents, prostrating themselves before 
the shrine of such despicable and abominable idols, and the 
idea of the true God almost banished from the world, we have 



IMAGE WORSHIP. 



no 



reason to feel ashamed, and to be deeply humbled, that wo 
belong to a race of intelligences that have thus so grossly 
prostituted their rational and moral powers. 

The only natural image or representation of God which is 
set before us for our contemplation, is, the boundless universe 
which his hands have formed ; and his moral image is display- 
ed in the laws which he has published, in the movements of 
his providence, and in the face of Jesus Christ his Son, who 
is "the image of the invisible God, and the brightness of his 
glory." All these exhibitions of the Divine Majesty, we are 
commanded to study, to contemplate, and admire; and it is 
essentially requisite in order to our acquiring correct and 
comprehensive views of the object of our adoration, that no 
one of these displays of the Divinity should be overlooked, 
or thrown into the shade. There are some Christians, who 
imagine they may acquire a competent knowledge of the char- 
acter of God, although they should never spend a single mo- 
ment in contemplating his perfections as displayed in his visi- 
ble works. In regard to such, I hesitate not to affirm, that 
they are, to a certain extent, idolators. and remain wilful idola- 
tors, contented with the most inadequate and grovelling con- 
ceptions of the Deity, so long as they refuse to contemplate, 
with fixed attention, and with intelligence, the operations of 
his hands. If a man's ideas never extend beyond the bounds 
of his visible horizon, or beyond the limits of the country in 
which he resides, and if, at the same time, he has overlooked 
the most striking displays of divine wisdom and goodness within 
these bounds — his conceptions of the Divine Being himself, 
will nearly correspond with the conceptions he forms of his 
works. If his views be even confined within the limits of 
the globe on whicfi he dwells, his conceptions of God will 
still be grovelling, distorted, and imperfect. And, therefore, 
the idea which such an individual forms to himself of God, 
may be inferior to that which is due to one of the higher or- 
ders of created intelligences. And, if so, lie has only an im 
age of a creature in his mind, instead of a com pndiensive 
conception of the Great Creator. We have too much reason 
to believe, that there are multitudes in the religious world, 
who pass for enlightened Christians, whose ideas of the Su- 
preme Ruler of the universe do not rise beyond the concep- 
tions we ought to form of the powers and capacities of Ga- 
briel the archangel, or of one of the highest order of the 
6eraphim. 

We can never expect, from the very nature of things to be 
able to explore the depths of Jehovah's essence, or to cornpre- 



180 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



hend the whole range of his dominions and government. But, 
a large portion of his operations lies open to our inspection ; 
and it is from an enlightened contemplation of what is pre- 
sented to our view in the visible universe, that we are to form 
our conceptions of the grandeur of the Eternal Mind. For, it 
may be admitted as an axiom, both in natural and revealed 
theology, that our conceptions of God will nearly correspond 
with the conceptions we acquire of the nature and extent of his 
operations. In the universe around us, we perceive an image 
of his infinity, in so far as a finite and material existence 
can adumbrate the attributes of an Infinite and Invisible Exist- 
ence. When we lift our eyes towards the midnight sky, we 
behold a thousand suns diffusing their splendours from regions 
of space immeasurably distant. When we apply a telescope 
to any portion of this vast concave, we perceive thousands 
more which the unassisted eye cannot discern. When we in- 
crease the magnifying powers of the instrument, we descry 
numerous orbs of light, stretching still farther into the unfa- 
thomable depths of space ; so that there appear no limits to 
the scene of creating power. When the eye of reason pene- 
trates beyond all that is visible through the most powerful 
telescopes, it contemplates a boundless region teeming with 
other resplendent suns and systems, whose number and mag- 
nificence overwhelm the imagination ; so that no limit can be 
set to the excursions of the intellect when it wings its flight 
over the wide empire of Jehovah. Over all this vast assem 
blage of material splendour, over its movements, and over all 
the diversified ranks of intelligence it supports, God eternally 
and unchangeably presides. He is an Infinite Being ; — and in 
this immense universe which he has opened to our view, he 
has given us an image of his infinity, which corresponds with 
the perfections which the inspired writers ascribe to him — and 
without a contemplation of which, the mind must have a very 
unworthy and circumscribed idea of the attributes of the Eter- 
nal Mind. Even in many of the objects which surround us in 
this lower world, we perceive an image of the infinity of the 
Creator — particularly in those living worlds which are con 
tained in a few drops of water, some of the inhabitants of which 
are several hundreds of thousands of times smaller than the least 
grain of sand. — To the contemplation of such objects we are di- 
rected by God himself, in order to acquire an impressive view of 
his character and operations. 44 Lift up your eyes on high, 
and behold who hath created these orbs, that bringeth out their 
host by number : he calleth them all by names, by the great- 
ness of his might, for that he is strong in power." — And, the 



IMAGE WORSHIP* 



181 



prophets, when reasoning against idolatry, present us with a 
train of thought similar to that to which I have now adverted, 
They describe the Almighty as " sitting on the circle of the 
heavens, and the inhabitants of the earth as grasshoppers in 
his sight." They represent him as "measuring the waters in 
the hollow of his hand, weighing the mountains in scales, and 
meting out the heavens luith a span— before whom all nations 
are as the drop of a bucket, and are counted to him less than 
nothing and vanity." 

It is strange, indeed, that the duty of contemplating the 
image of God as impressed upon his works, should be so much 
overlooked by the great body of the Christian world, notwith- 
standing the obvious reasonableness of this duty, and the pointed 
injunctions in relation to it which are reiterated in every de- 
partment of the word of God. It is still more strange, that 
the instructions of many religious teachers have a tendency to 
dissuade Christians from engaging in this duty, by the foolish 
contrasts they attempt to draw between the word and the works 
of God ; so that the great mass of Christians are left to re- 
main half idolaters for want of those expansive conceptions of 
God which a knowledge of his works is calculated to produce. 

It is also most unaccountable, on every principle of reason, 
and of Revelation, that the wilful neglect of this duty should 
never be accounted either as a sin, or as a want of that re- 
spect which is due to the Majesty of Heaven. We have known 
persons rebuked, and even excluded from a Christian Church, 
for holding a metaphysical sentiment different from their breth- 
ren respecting the divine plans and decrees; but we never 
heard of an individual being either reproved or admonished 
by a Christian society, for neglecting to contemplate the cha- 
racter of God as displayed in his works, although he had lived 
fifty years amidst the magnificence of creation, and had acquir- 
ed little more knowledge of his Creator, from this source, 
than the ox which browses on the grass. Yet, to this neglect 
is to be imputed a great proportion of those grovelling concep- 
tions, superstitious notions, and distorted views of the doctrines 
of religion which still disgrace the Christian world. This fact is 
still more unaccountable, when we consider that a knowledge 
of the abstrusities and technicalities of science is not requisite 
in order to the performance of this duty. It requires only the 
eye of sense, of reason, and of devotion to be directed to the 
scene of divine operation within us, and around us, and to be- 
occasionally fixed on the object we contemplate, in order to 
appreciate the perfections and the glory of the ever present 
Deity. Although there were no other striking objects around 

16 



182 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



us, the single fact of the apparent revolution of the celestial 
concave, with all its magnificent orbs, around the earth every 
twenty-four hours, is sufficient to overpower the mind of every 
rational observer with admiration and wonder, if his attention 
were seriously directed to it only for a single hour. The 
ideas of majesty, of grandeur, and of omnipotent energy which 
this single circumstance is calculated to inspire, are such as 
irresistibly to lead the mind to the contemplation of a Being 
whose perfections are incomprehensible, and whose ways are 
past finding out. Yet, I believe, it may be affirmed with truth, 
that more than one half of the Christian world are ignorant 
that such a fact exists ;* such is the indifference and the apathy 
with which many religionists view the wonderful works of 
God. 

It was chiefly owing to such criminal inattention to the dis- 
plays of the Divine Character in the works of creation, that 
the inhabitants of the Pagan world plunged themselves into 
all the absurdities and abominations of idolatry. "For the 
invisible things of God, even his eternal power and godhead, 
are clearly seen in the things that are made," if men would 
but open their eyes, and exercise their powers of intelligence. 
"The heavens declare the glory of Jehovah;" they declare it 
to all the inhabitants of the earth. 44 There is no speech nor 
language where their voice is not heard : their line is gone out 
through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world." 

In reason's car they all rejoice, 
And utter forth a glorious voice; 
For ever singing, as they shine, 
" The hand that made us is divine. 

But the Heathen world did not listen to the instructions thus 
conveyed, nor did they apply their understandings, as they 
ought to have done, to trace the invisible things of God, from 
the visible displays of his character and perfections, in the 
universe around them. "They became vain in their imagina- 
tions, and their foolish hearts were darkened ; and professing 
hemselves to be wise, they became fools." While 44 the harp 
and the viol, the tabret, the pipe, and the wine were in their 
feasts, they regarded not the works of the Lord, nor consider- 
ed the operations of his hands." " Wherefore they were given 
up by God to indulge" in vile affections, and "to worship and 

* Here I refer "imply to the apparent motion of the heavens— leaving every on* 
to form his own opinion as to the other alternative — the motion of the earth. In 
either case the mind is overpoweted with ideas of grandeur and of Almighty power. 
See this topic more particularly illustrated in " Christ. Philosopher," Third Edit, 
pp 67, 280, 605. 



RELIGIOUS VENERATION. 



183 



serve the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed for 
ever." And, even under the Christian dispensation, we have 
too much reason to fear, that effects somewhat analagous to 
these have been produced, and a species of mental idolatry 
practised by thousands who have professed the religion of 
Jesus ; owing to their inattention to the visible operations of 
Jehovah, and to their not connecting them with the displays 
of his character and agency as exhibited in the revelations of 
his word. 

THE THIRD COMMANDMENT. 

Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain. 

The name of any person is that which distinguishes him from 
other individuals. Whatever word is employed to distinguish 
any object, whether animate or inanimate, is its name. In 
like manner, the Name of God is that by which he is distin- 
guished from all other beings. It includes those terms which 
express his nature and character, as Jehovah — those titles by 
which his relation to his creator is designated, as "The Crea- 
tor of the ends of the earth, — The Father of mercies, — The 
God of salvation," &c. — the attributes of which he is possessed, 
as his Eternity, Omnipotence, Holiness, Justice, Slc. — the 
works which he has exhibited in heaven and on earth — the 
movements of his Providence, and the Revelations of his 
word. By every one of these, the character of God is 
distinguished from that of all other beings in the universe. In 
relation to this name or character of the Divine Being, it is 
solemnly commanded that "we are not to take it in vain,"— 
that is, we are not to use any of the titles or designations of 
the Divine Majesty, for trifling, vain, or evil purposes ; nor 
are we to treat any displays of his character with levity, pro- 
faneness, or irreverence. 

We violate this command, when we use the name of God, in 
common discourse, in a light and irreverent manner, when we 
interlard our conversation with unnecessary oaths and asseve- 
rations in which this name is introduced ; when we swear to 
what we know to be false, or when we multiply oaths in refe 
rence to vain and trifling concerns; when we imprecate curses 
and damnation on our fellow-creatures ; when we approach 
God in prayer, without those feelings of reverence and awe, 
which his perfections demand ; when we sw r ear by any object 
in heaven or in earth, or by the false deities of the heathen 
world; when we treat his wonderful works with indifference 



184 



THE PHILOSOPHY OI RELIGION. 



or contempt ; when we endeavour to caricature, and misre- 
present them, or attempt to throw a veil over their glory ; when 
we insinuate that his most glorious and magnificent works 
were made for no end, or for no end worthy of that infinite 
wisdom and intelligence by which they were contrived ; when 
we overlook or deny the Divine Agency, which is displayed 
in the operations of nature ; when we murmur and repine at 
his moral dispensations, or treat the mighty movements of his 
Providence, whether in ancient or in modern times, with a 
spirit of levity, with ridicule, or with contempt; when we 
treat the revelations of the Bible with indifference or with 
scorn ; when we make the declarations of that book, which 
unfolds to us the sublime and adorable character of Jehovah, 
the subject of merriment and jest; when we endeavour to 
throw upon them contempt and ridicule, with the view of un- 
dermining their divine authority ; and when we sneer at the 
public and private worship of God, and at the ordinances which 
he hath appointed. — In all these and many other ways, the 
name of God is profaned, his character reproached, and that 
reverence of the Divine Being, which is the foundation of all 
religion and moral order, undermined and subverted. 

When the name or the titles by which a fellow-mortal is 
distinguished, are made the subject of banter and 1 idicule in 
every company, when they are brought forward for the pur- 
pose of giving an edge to a sarcastic sneer ; and when his em- 
ployments and the works he has constructed are contemned, 
and associated with every thing that is mean and degrading; 
it is an evidence of the low estimation in which he is held by 
the individual who does so, and has a tendency to debase his 
character in the eyes of others. On the same principle, the 
profanation of the name of God, has an evident tendency to 
lessen our admiration of the Majesty of Heaven, and to banish 
from the mind every sentiment of veneration and reverence. 
The man who can deliberately violate this command, from 
day to day, — thus offering a continual insult to his Maker — 
proclaims to all around, that he has no emotions of reverence 
and affection towards that Almighty Being, whose power up- 
holds the fabric of heaven and earth, and who dispenses life 
and death to whomsoever he pleases. "He stretcheth out his 
hand against God, and strengthened himself against the Al- 
mighty.'* He proclaims to every reflecting mind, that pride, 
enmity, rebellion, and irreverence, are deeply seated in his 
heart, and that " the fear of God," and the solemnities of a 
future judgment " are not before his eyes." 

Were the violation of this law to become universal among 



RELIGIOUS VENERATION. 



185 



men — the name of God, among all ranks, ages, and conditions 
of life, would be associated, not only with every trifling dis- 
course and altercation, but with every species of ribaldry and 
obscenity. The lisping babe would be taught to insult that 
Mighty Being, from whom it so lately derived its existence; 
and the man of hoary hairs, even in the agonies of death, would 
pass into the eternal state, imprecating the vengeance of his 
Maker. All reverence for Jehovah, would, of course, be ban- 
ished from society ; no temples would be erected to his hon- 
our ; no silent adorations of the heart would ascend to his 
throne ; no vows would be paid ; no forms of worship ap- 
pointed ; no tribute of thanksgiving and gratitude would be 
offered to his name, — but the voice of profanity and of exe- 
cration, among high and low, rich and poor, the young and 
the old, in every social intercourse, and in every transaction, 
would resound throughout all lands. No motives to excite to 
moral action, would be derived from the authority and the om- 
nipresence of God, and from a consideration of his future re- 
tributions ; for his character would be reproached, and his 
authority trampled under foot by all people. "They would 
set their mouths against the heavens in their blasphemous talk," 
and they would say, "How doth God know, and is there know- 
ledge in the Most High ?" "What is the Almighty that we 
should serve him, and what profit shall we have, if we pray 
unto him?" "The Lord doth not see, neither doth the God 
of Jacob regard us." His wonderful works would either be 
overlooked, or treated with contempt, or ascribed to the blind 
operation of chance or of fate. They would be represented 
as accomplishing no end, as displaying no wisdom, and as 
controlled by no intelligent agency. Their apparent ir- 
regularities and defects would be magnified, and expatiated 
upon with diabolical delight; while the glorious evidences 
they exhibit of infinite wisdom and beneficence would be 
thrown completely into the shade. The dispensations of 
his providence would be viewed as an inextricable maze, 
without order or design, directed by chance, and by the 
ever-varying caprice of human beings. His venerable word 
would universally become the subject of merriment and 
laughter, — a topic for the exercise of ribaldry and ridicule, 
and a theme for enlivening the unhallowed song of the 
drunkard. The most solemn scenes which it displays, and 
its most joyful and alarming declarations, would be equally 
treated with levity and contempt. — Huch arc some of the im- 
pious practices, and horrible effects which would follow, if 
the name of Jehovah were universally profaned. The venr 



186 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



name of religion would be blotted cut from the earth, its forms 
abolished, its sanctions disregarded, its laws violated, virtue 
and piety annihilated, the flood-gates of every evil burst open, 
and moral order entirely subverted. 

On the other hand, universal reverence of the name and 
character of God would lead to the practice of all the duties 
of piety and morality. The Most High would be recognised 
with sentiments of veneration at all times; and the silent ado- 
rations of the heart would flow out towards him in all places ; 
in the house, and in the street, in the bosom of the forest, and 
in the fertile plain, in the city, and in the wilderness, under 
the shades of night, and amidst the splendours of day. In 
every place, temples would be erected for his worship, halle- 
lujahs of praise would ascend, and 44 incense and a pure offer- 
ing" be presented to his name. With reverence and godly 
fear, with expansive views of his magnificence and glory, with 
emotions of affection and of awe would his worshippers ap- 
proach him in prayer, in praise, in contemplation, and in all 
the services of his sanctuary. The whole earth would be 
consecrated as one grand temple, from which a grateful hom- 
age would ascend from the hearts and from the lips of millions 
of devout worshippers, in all places, from the rising to the setting 
sun. In the domestic circle, in the social club, in the convivial 
meeting, in the streets, in "the high places of the city," in the 
public walks, in the councils of the nations, and in every other 
intercourse of human beings, the name of God would never be 
mentioned nor his character alluded to, but with feelings of pro- 
found and reverential awe. His works would be contemplated 
with admiration, with reverence, and with gratitude, as pro- 
claiming the glory of his kingdom, the depths of h is wisdom, and 
the extent of his power. His mighty movements among the na- 
tions would be regarded with submission and reverence, as 
accomplishing the eternal purposes of his will, and his holy 
word would be perused by all classes of men with affection and 
delight, as the oracle which proclaims the glories of his na- 
ture and the excellence of his laws, the blessings of his salva- 
tion, and the path which conducts to eternal felicity in the life 
to come. Such ar* some of the delightful effects which would 
follow, were a sentiment of profound reverence to pervade the 
whole mass of human beings ; — and corresponding sentiments 
of Jove and affection for each other, would be the necessary 
and unceasing accompaniments of respect and veneration for 
their common Parent. 



INSTITUTION OF THE SABBATH. 



187 



THE FOURTH COMMANDMENT. 

" Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy* Six days shalt 
thou labour, and do all thy v:ork ; but the seventh day is the 
Sabbath of the Lord thy God," $c. 

This commandment obviously enjoins the setting apart of 
one day in seven, as a day of rest from worldly labour, and as 
a portion of time to be devoted to the devotional exercises of 
religion, and particularly to the public worship of God. It 
was given forth, not merely to display the Sovereignty of the 
Lawgiver ; but to promote both the sensitive and the intellect- 
ual enjoyment of man. " The Sabbath," says our Saviour, 
"was made /or man, and not man for the Sabbath." 

It was made for man, in the first place, as a day of rest. In 
this point of view, it is a most wise and merciful appointment, 
especially when we consider the present condition of mankind, as 
doomed to labour, and toil, and to the endurance of many sor- 
rows. When we reflect on the tyrannical dispositions which 
prevail among mankind, on the powerful influence of avarice 
over the human mind, and on the almost total absence of benevo- 
lence and compassion towards suffering humanity, wherever 
such dispositions predominate, we cannot but admire the wisdom 
and benevolence of the Creator, in the appointment of a week- 
ly jubilee for the rest and refreshment of labourers spent with 
toil. On this day, the master has an opportunity of divesting 
his mind of worldly cares and anxieties, the servant of obtain- 
ing liberty and respite from his toilsome employments ; and 
labourers of every class, of enjoying repose in the bosom of 
their families. Such, however, are the avaricious dispositions, 
and the contracted views of a great proportion of mankino, that 
they are apt to regard the institution of the Sabbath as an ob- 
struction to the advancement of their worldly interests. They 
will calculate how much labour has been lost by the rest ol 
one day in seven, and how much wealth might have been 
gained, had the Sabbath not ' -^rvened to interrupt their em- 
ployments. But all such selfish .Jculations, even in a worldly 
point of view, proceed on the principles of a narrow and short- 
sighted policy. We know by experience, that, on the six days 
out of seven appointed for labour, all the operations requisite 
for the cultivation of the fields, and for the manufacture of eve- 
ry useful article for the comfort of mankind, can be performed 
with ease, and without the least injury to any class of men. 
And what more could be accomplished, although the Sabbath 



188 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION, 



were converted into a day of labour? Were this violation of 
the divine command to become universal, it might be shown, 
that, instead of producing an increase of wealth, it would in- 
fallibly produce an increase of toil and misery in relation to 
the great mass of mankind, without any corresponding pecu- 
niary compensation. The labouring class at present receive 
little more wages than is barely sufficient to procure the ne- 
cessaries of life. If their physical strength would permit them 
to work eighteen hours a day, instead of twelve, it is beyond 
a doubt, that, in a very short time, the work of eighteen hours 
would be demanded by their employers for the price of twelve— 
particularly in all cases where a sufficient number of labourers 
can be easily obtained. In like manner, were the Sabbath to 
be used as a day of labour, the wages of seven days would 
soon be reduced to what is now given for the labour of six. 
In the first instance, indeed, before such a change was tho- 
roughly effected, the labouring part of the community would 
acquire a seventh part more wages every week than they did 
before; and men unaccustomed to reflection, and who never 
look beyond a present temporary ad vantage, would imagine that 
they had acquired a new resource for increasing their worldly 
gain. But, in a very short time, when the affairs of the social 
state were brought to a certain equilibrium, they would be 
miserably undeceived; and the abolition of the Sabbath, in- 
stead of bringing along with it an increase of wealth, would 
carry in its train an increase of labour, — a continued series of 
toilsome and unremitting exertions, which would waste their 
animal powers, cut short the years of their mortal existences, 
44 make their lives bitter with hard bondage," and deprive them 
of some of the sweetest enjoyments which they now possess. 

And as the Sabbath was appointed for the rest of man, so it 
was also intended as a season of repose for the inferior ani- 
mals which labour for our profit. "The seventh day is the 
Sabbath of the Lord thy God ; in it thou shalt not do any 
work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy man-servant, 
nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor the stranger that is 
within thy gates." This injunction exhibits the compassion- 
ate care and tenderness of the Creator in a very amiable and 
impressive point of view. It shows us, that the enjoyments 
of the lowest ranks of sensitive existence are not beneath his 
notice and regard. As he knew what degree of relaxation 
was necessary for the comfort of the labouring animals, and 
as he foresaw that the avarice and cruelty of man would en- 
deavour to deprive them of their due repose, so he has secured 
to them, by a law which is to continue in force so long as the 



INSTITUTION OF THE SABBATH. 



189 



earth endures, the rest of one day in seven in common with 
their proprietors and superiors. And this privilege they will 
undoubtedly enjoy hereafter, in a more eminent degree than 
they have yet done, when man himself shall be induced to pay 
a more cordial and unreserved obedience to this divine pre- 
cept,— when "he shall call the Sabbath a delight, and the holy 
of the Lord honourable." 

Again, the Sabbath was appointed for man, as a season for 
pious recollection, and religious contemplation. " Remember 
the Sabbath day, to keep it holy." Amidst the numerous cares 
and laborious employments of human life, it is impossible to 
fix the mind, for any length of time, on the divine glory, as 
displayed in the works of creation, on the important facts and 
doctrines of revealed religion, and on the grand realities of 
the life to come. And, therefore, if the labouring classes en- 
joyed no regular season of repose for serious reflection, and 
religious instruction, the objects of religion would soon be 
entirely neglected, and the impression of a future world evan- 
ish from the mind. But in the wise arrangements of the be- 
nificent Creator, an opportunity is afforded to all ranks of 
men for cultivating their moral and intellectual powers, and for 
directing them to the study and contemplation of the most glo- 
rious and interesting objects. As the Sabbath was originally 
instituted as a sacred memorial of the finishing of the work 
of creation, so it is obvious that the contemplation of the fa- 
bric of the universe, and of the perfections of its Almighty 
Author therein displayed, ought to form one part of the exer- 
cises of this holy day ; and, consequently, that illustrations 
of this subject ought to be frequently brought before the view 
of the mind in those discourses which are delivered in the as- 
semblies of the saints. Since the references to this subject, 
throughout the whole of divine revelation, are so frequent and 
so explicit, it is evident, that the Creator intended that this 
amazing work of his should be contemplated with admiration, 
and make a deep and reverential impression upon every mind. 
To call to remembrance a period when there was no terra- 
queous globe, no sun, nor moon, nor planets, nor starry firma- 
ment, when darkness and "inanity reigned throughout the infi- 
nite void — to listen to the voice of God resounding through 
the regions of boundless space, 46 Let there be light; and 
light was " — to behold ten thousands of spacious suns instant- 
ly lighted up at his command — to trace the mighty masses of 
the planetary worlds projected from the hand of Omnipotence, 
and running their ample circuits with a rapidity which over- 
whelms our conceptions — to contemplate the globe on which 



190 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



we stand emerging from darkness and confusion to light and 
order ; adorned with diversified scenes of beauty and of sub- 
limity, with mountains, and plains, with rivers, and seas, and 
oceans; and with every variety of shade and colour ; cheered 
with the melody of the feathered songsters, and with the voice 
of man, the image of his Maker, where a little before eterna 7 
silence had prevailed, — to reflect on the Almighty energy, thf 
boundless intelligence, and the overflowing benificence di» 
played in this amazing scene — has a tendency to elevate and 
expand the faculties of the human mind, and to excite emo- 
tions of reverence and adoration of the omnipotent Creator. 
This is a work w*hich the eternal Jehovah evidently intended 
to be held in everlasting remembrance, by man on earth, and 
by all the inhabitants of the heavenly regions. It is the mir- 
ror of the Diety, and the natural image of the invisible God ; 
and it forms the groundwork of all those moral diepensations 
towards his intelligent offspring, which will run parallel with 
eternity itself. And, therefore, to overlook this subject in the 
exercises of the Sabbath, is to throw a veil over the glories of 
the Deity, to disregard the admonitions of his word, and to 
contemn one of the most magnificent and astonishing displays 
of Divine perfection. 44 By the word of Jehovah were the 
heavens made, and all the host of them, by the breath of his 
mouth. He gathereth the waters of the sea together as an 
heap, he layeth up the depth in storehouses. Let all the earth 
fear the Lord ; let all the inhabitants of the world stand in 
awe of him. For he spake, and it was done, he commanded, 
and it stood fast." 

This is a command which never was abrogated, and which 
never can be abrogated in relation to any intelligent beings, so 
long as the Creator exists, and so long as the universe remains 
as a memorial of his power and intelligence. Those sacred 
songs which are recorded in scripture for directing the train 
of our devotional exercises, are full of this subject, and contain 
specimens of elevated sentiment of sublime devotion, incom- 
parably superior to what is to be found in any other record, 
whether ancient or modern.* But man, whose unhallowed 
hand pollutes and degrades every portion of revelation which 
he attempts to improve, has either endeavoured to set aside the 
literal and sublime references of these divine compositions, 
or to substitute in their place the vague and extravagant fan- 
cies of weak and injudicious minds, for directing the devotion- 

* See particularly Psalms 8, 18, 19, 29, 33, 65, 66, 68, 74, 89, 92, 93^ 
i4, 95, /6, 100, 104, 107, 111, 135, 136, 139, 145, 146, 147, 148, &C.&C 



INSTITUTION OF THE SABBATH. 



191 



al exercises of Christian churches.* As the book of God is 
the only correct standard of religious worship, so our devo- 
tional exercises, both in public and in private, ought to be 
chiefly, if not solely, directed by the examples of devotion 
contained in the inspired writings, which are calculated to regu- 
late and enliven the pious exercises of men of every age and 
of every clime. 

But, the celebration of the work of creation is not the only, 
nor the principal exercise to which we are called on the Chris- 
tian sabbath. Had man continued in primeval innocence, this 
would probably have constituted his chief employment. But 
he is now called to celebrate, in conjunction with this exer- 
cise, a most glorious deliverance from sin and misery, effected 
by the Redeemer of mankind. And, for this reason, the sab- 
bath has been changed from the seventh to the first day of the 
week, in memorial of the resurrection of Christ, when he was 
" declared to be the Son of God with power." In this delive- 
rance, as in the first creation, a variety of the grandest and 
most interesting objects is presented to our view: — The Son 
of God manifested in the flesh— the moral image of the invi 
sible Creator embodied in a human form, displaying every 
heavenly disposition, arid every divine virtue, performing a se 

* I here allude to several collections of Hymns which have been intro 
ducedinto the public worship of Christian societies — many of which, 
contain a number of vague and injudicious sentiments, and extravagant 
fancies, while they entirely omit many of those subjects on which the 
inspired writers delight to expatiate. This position could easily be illus- 
trated by abundance of examples, were it expedient in this place. lam 
firmly of opinion, that the praises of the Christian church ought to be 
celebrated in Scripture-language — that selections for this purpose should 
be made from the book of Psalms, the Prophets, and the New Testament 
writers, which shall embody every sentiment expressed in the original, 
without gloss or comment, and be as nearly as possible in the very 
word:-; of Scripture. This has been partly effected in many of the Psalms 
containedin the metrical versions used in the Scottish Church, in which sim- 
plicity, and sublimity, and a strict adherence to the original, are beauti- 
fully exemplified. In this case there would be no need for a separate 
hymn-book for Baptists, Methodists, Independents, Presbyterians, and 
Episcopalians. But, when a poet takes an insulated passage of Scrip- 
ture, and spins out a dozen stanzas about it. he may interweave, and 
most frequently does, as many fancies of his own as he pleases. Were 
the ideas contained in certain hymns to be painted on canvass, they 
would represent, either a congeries of clouds and mists, or a group of 
distorted and unnatural objects. And why should such vague fancies, 
and injudicious representations, be imposed on a Christian assembly f 
What a disgrace is thrown upon Christianity, when the different sects of 
Christians cannot cordially join together in the same songs of thanks- 
giving and praise to their common Father and Lord ! 



192 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



ries of the most astonishing and beneficent miracles, giving 
sight to the blind, and hearing to the deaf, making the lame 
man leap as a hart, and the tongue of the dumb to sing, re- 
storing the infuriated maniac to the exercise of reason, com- 
manding diseases to fly at the signal of a touch, recalling de- 
parted spirits from the invisible world, raising the dead to life, 
and, on every occasion, imparting heavenly instructions to at- 
tending multitudes. We behold this illustrious personage 
suspended on the cross, encompassed with the waters of afflic- 
tion, and with the agonies of death; the veil of the temple 
rent in twain, from the top to the bottom — the rocks of mount 
Calvary rent asunder — the sun covered with blackness — dark- 
ness surrounding the whole land of Judea — the graves open- 
ing — the dead arising, and the Prince of Life consigned to 
the mansions of the tomb. On the third morning after this 
solemn scene, "a great earthquake" having shaken the sepul- 
chre of the Saviour, we behold him bursting the prison-doors 
of the tomb, and awakening to a new life, which shall never 
end — we behold celestial messengers, in resplendent forms, 
descending from the ethereal regions to announce to his dis- 
consolate disciples, that he who was dead ''is alive, and lives 
for evermore we behold him, at length, bestowing his last 
benediction on his faithful followers, rising above the confines 
of this earthly ball, winging his way on a resplendent cloud, 
attended by myriads of angels, through distant regions which 
"eye hath not seen;*' and entering "into heaven itself, there 
to appear in the presence of God for us." In the redemption 
achieved by this glorious person, we are directed to look back 
on that scene of misery in which sin has involved the human 
race, and to those " regions of sorrow and doleful shades," 
from which his mercy has delivered us ; and to look forward 
to a complete deliverance from moral evil, to a resurrection 
from the grave, to a general assembly of the whole race of 
Adam — to the destruction and renovation of this vast globe 
on which we dwell, and to the enjoyment of uninterrupted 
felicity, in brighter regions, while countless ages roll away. — 
Such are some of the sublime and interesting objects which 
we are called upon to contemplate and to celebrate on the day 
appointed for the Christian sabbath — objects which have a 
tendency to inspire the mind with sacred joy, and with an 
anticipation of nobleremployments in the life to come. 

Again, the Sabbath was appointed as a stated season for 
the public worship of God, As mankind are connected by 
innumerable ties, as they are subject to the same wants and 
infirmities, are exposed to the same sorrows and afflictions 



SABBATICAL EXERCISES. 



193 



and stand in need of the same blessings from God, — it is 
highly reasonable and becoming, that they should frequently 
meet together, to offer up in unison their thanksgiving and 
praise to their common Benefactor, and to supplicate the 
throne of his mercy. These exercises are connected with a 
variety of interesting and important associations. In the 
public assemblies where religious worship is performed, 
44 the rich and the poor meet together." Within the same 
walls, those who would never have met in any other circum- 
stances, are placed exactly in the same situation before Him 
in whose presence all earthly distinctions evanish, and who is 
the Lord, and 44 the Maker of them all." . Here, pride and 
haughtiness are abased ; all are placed on the same level, 
as sinners before Him 44 who is of purer eyes than to behold 
iniquity; the loftiness of man is humbled, the poor are raised 
from the dust, and the Lord alone is exalted in the courts of 
his holiness. Here, cleanliness and decency of apparel are 
to be seen, and human nature appears, both in its physical 
and its moral grandeur.* Here, civility of deportment, and 
kindly affections are generally displayed. Here, we feel our 
selves in the immediate presence of Him before whom all na- 
tions are as the drop of a bucket ; we feel our guilty and de- 
pendant character, and stand, as suppliants, for mercy to par- 
don, and for grace to help us in the time of need. Here, know 
ledge of the most important kind is communicated to assem- 
bled multitudes, almost 44 without money and without price.** 
Here, the poorest beggar, the youth, and the man of hoary 
hairs, may learn the character of the true God, and of Jesus 
Christ whom he hath sent — the way to eternal happiness — the 
sources of consolation under the afflictions of life — and the 
duties they owe to their Creator, and to all mankind. In a 
word, here the sinner, in the midst of his unhallowed courses, 
is aroused to consideration; and here the saint is animated and 
encouraged in his Christian journey, and enjoys a foretaste 
of the blessedness of heaven, and an earnest of the delightful 
intercourses and employments of 44 the saints in light." 

Let us now suppose, for a moment, that the Sabbath, and 
its exercises, were universally abolished from the civilized 
world. What would be the consequences? The knowledge 
of the true God, which the institution of the Sabbath, more 
than any other mean, has tended to perpetuate, would soon 

* What a striking contrast, even in a physical point of view, is pro 
sentcd between a modern assembly of Christian worshippers, and the 
hideous and filthy group of iiuman beings that are to be seen in the 
kraal of a Hottentot, or in the cave of a New Hollander 

17 



104 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



be lost, his worship abandoned, and religion and reoral prin 
ciple buried in the dust. In Pagan countries, where the Sab- 
bath is unknown, the true God is never adored, the soul of 
man is debased, and prostrates itself before the sun and moon, 
and even before demons, monsters, insects, reptiles, and 
blocks of wood and stone. In France, where the Sabbath 
was for a season abolished, an impious phantom, called the 
Goddess of Reason, was substituted in the room of the Om- 
nipotent and Eternal God ; the Bible was held up to ridicule, 
and committed to the flames ; man was degraded to the level 
of the brutes ; his mind was assimilated to a piece of clay, 
and the cheering prospects of immortality were transformed 
into the shades of an eternal night. Atheism, Scepticism, 
and Fatalism, almost universally prevailed ; the laws of mo 
rality were trampled under foot; and anarchy, plots, assassi 
nations, massacres, and legalized plunder, became " the orde? 
of the day." — With the loss of the knowledge of God, al 
impressions of the Divine presence, and all sense of accounta 
bleness for human actions, would be destroyed. The re 
strain Is* of religion, and the prospect of a future judgment 
would no longer deter from the commission of crimes; and 
nothing but the dread of the dungeon, the gibbet, or the rack, 
would restrain mankind from the constant perpetration of 
cruelty, injustice, and deeds of violence. No social prayers, 
from assembled multitudes, would be offered up to the Father 
of mercies ; no voice of thanksgiving and praise would as- 
cend to tne Ruler of the skies ; the work of creation, as dis- 
playing the perfections of the Deity, would cease to be admir- 
ed and commemorated ; and the movements of Providence, 
and the glories of redemption, would be overlooked and dis- 
regarded. The pursuit of the objects of time and sense, 
which can be enjoyed only for a few fleeting years, would 
absorb every faculty of the soul ; and the realities of the eter- 
nal world would either be forgotten, or regarded as idle 
dreams. In short, were the Sabbath abolished, or, were the 
law which enforces its observance to be reversed, man would 
be doomed to spend his mortal existence in an unbroken se- 
ries of incessant labour and toil; Ins mental powers would 
languish, and his bodily strength would be speedily wasted. 
Habits of cleanliness civility of deportment, and decency of 
apparel, would be disregarded; and the persons, and the ha- 
bitations of the labouring classes, would soon resemble the 
filthiness and the wretched objects which are seen in the kraal 
of a Hottentot. Their minds would neither be cheered with 
the prospect of seasons of stated repose in this world, nor 
with the hope of eternal rest and joy in the world to come 



RELATIONS OF MANKIND. 



195 



THE FIFTH COMMANDMENT. 

" Honour thy Father and thy Mother." 

The four preceding commandments, whose importance I 
have endeavoured to illustrate, were written on a separate 
tablet from those that follow, and have been generally consi'_ 
dered as enjoining the practice of piety, or those duties which 
more immediately respect God as their object. But they also 
include the duties we owe to ourselves; for in yielding obe- 
dience to these requirements, we promote our best interests 
in this world, and are gradually prepared for participating in 
the enjoyments of the world to come. These laws are bind- 
ing upon angels and archangels, and upon every class of in- 
telligent beings, in whatever quarter of the universe their lo- 
cal residence may be found, as well as upon the inhabitants of 
the earth. The fourth commandment, indeed, in so far as re 
gards the particular motion of time to be set apart for the 
worship of God, may possibly be peculiar to the inhabitants 
of our world. Even although the inhabitants of such a world 
as the planet Jupiter were commanded to set apart every sev- 
enth natural day for the stated public worship of God, the pro- 
portion of absolute time allotted for this purpose, would not 
be the same as ours ; for the natural day in that world is equal 
to only ten hours of our time. But the spirit of this precept, 
or, the principle on which it is founded, must be common to 
all worlds. For we can conceive of no class of intelligent 
creatures, on whom it is not obligatory to devote a certain 
portion of time for the social worship arid adoration of their 
Creator, and for commemorating the displays of his Power and 
Benevolence ; and all holy intelligences will cheerfully join in 
such exercises, and will consider it as a most ennobling and 
delightful privilege, to engage at stated seasons, along with their 
fellow-worshippers, in admiring and extolling the Uncreated 
Source of their enjoyments. But the stated seasons appointed 
by the Creator for such solemn acts of worship, the manner 
and circumstances in which they shall be performed, and the 
number of worshippers that may assemble on such occasions, 
may be different in different worlds, according to the situations 
in which they are placed. 

The fifth commandment, to which I am now to advert, is 
one of those moral regulations which may posssibly be pe- 
culiar to the relations which exist in our world ; at least, 
it cannot be supposed to apply to the inhabitants of any 
world where the relations of parents and children, of superiors 



196 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGIOX. 



and inferiors, are altogether unknown. But, in the circum- 
stances in which man is placed, it is a law indispensably re- 
quisite lor preserving the order and happiness of the social 
system. — It requires the exercise of those dispositions, and the 
performance of those duties, which are incumbent upon man- 
kind, in the various relations in which they stand to each other. 
It, consequently, includes within its spiril and references, the 
duties which children owe to their parents, and parents to 
their children ; the duties of husbands and wives, of masters 
and servants, of teachers and scholars, of brothers and sisters, 
of the young and the old, and of governors and their subjects ; 
together with all those dispositions of reverence, submission, 
affection, gratitude, and respect, with which the performance 
of these duties ought to be accompanied. It must also be con- 
sidered as forbidding every thing that is opposed to these dis- 
positions, and to the obedience required ; as contumacy, re- 
bellion, and want of respect, on the part of children towards 
their parents ; disobedience of servants to the reasonable com- 
mands of their masters; and every principle of disaffection 
and of insubordination among the various ranks of society. 
That all this is included within the range of this precept, might 
be proved from the principles on which our Saviour explains 
the sixth and seventh commandments, in his Sermon on the 
Mount, and from the illustrations of these duties which are 
given in the Apostolic epistles, and in other parts of Scripture. 

As it forms no part of my plan, to enter into any particular 
explanations of the duties required in the Decalogue, which 
have frequently been expounded by many respectable writers, 
in works particularly appropriated to this object, — I shall sim- 
ply illustrate, in a few words, the reasonableness of this, and 
the following precepts, from a consideration of the effects 
which would follow, were these laws either universally ob- 
served, or universally violated. 

Were this law to be reversed, or universally violated, it i3 
impossible to form an adequate conception of the dreadful scene 
of anarchy and confusion which woultl immediately ensue. 
Every social tie would be torn asunder, every relation invert- 
ed, every principle of subordination destroyed, every govern- 
ment overturned, every rank and order of mankind annihilated, 
and the whole assembly of human beings converted into a dis- 
cordant mass of lawless banditti. Every family would present 
a scene of riot, confusion, insubordination, contention, hatred, 
tumult, and incessant execration. Instead of love, peace, uni- 
ty, and obedience, the son would rise in rebellion against his 
father* and the father would insult and trample under foot his 



RELATIONS OF MANKIND. 



197 



son. To use the words of our Saviour, "The brother would 
deliver up the brother to death, and the father the child ; and 
the children would rise up against their parents, and cause 
them to be put to death ; the daughter would be set at vari- 
ance against her mother, and the daughter-in-law against her 
mother-in-law ; and a man's foes would be they of his own 
household." Children would be unprovided with proper food, 
clothing, and instruction, and left to wander, houseless and for- 
lorn, as vagabonds on the face of the earth ; and parents, 
abandoned by their children, in sickness, poverty, and old age r 
would sink into the grave in wretchedness and despair. The 
young, instead of "rising up before the hoary head, and ho- 
nouring the face of the old man," would treat the aged and 
infirm with every mark of scorn, derision, and contempt; and 
would feel a diabolical delight in vexing, thwarting, and over- 
powering their superiors in age and station. No instructions 
could be communicated by teachers and guardians to the rising 
generation ; for riot, insolence, insult, derision, and contempt, 
would frustrate every effort to communicate knowledge to a 
youthful group. No building nor other work of art could be 
commenced with the certain prospect of being ever finished : 
for its progress would depend upon the whims and humours 
of the workmen employed, who, of course, would rejoice in en- 
deavouring to frustrate the plans and wishes of their employers. 
No regular government nor subordination in a large commu- 
nity, could possibly exist ; for the great mass of society would 
endeavour to protect every delinquent, and would form them- 
selves into a league to prevent the execution of the laws. 
These effects would inevitably follow, even although the re- 
quisition contained in this precept, were to be viewed as con- 
fined solely to the reverence and obedience which children 
owe to their parents. For, were this obedience withdrawn, 
and an opposite disposition and conduct uniformly manifested, 
the young would carry the same dispositions which they dis- 
played towards their parents, into all the other scenes and re- 
lations of life, and fill the world with anarchy and confusion. 
But it would be needless to expatiate on this topic, as it ap- 
pears obvious to the least reflecting mind, that a universal vio- 
lation of this law would quite unhinge the whole fabric of 
society, and would soon put an end to the harmonious inter- 
course of human beings. 

On the other hand, a constant and universal obedience to 
this precept would produce such effects on the deformed aspect 
of our world as would transform it into a paradise of moral 
beauty, of happiness and love. Every family would exhibit a 



198 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



picture of peace and concord, of harmony and affection. No 
harsh and bitter language, no strifes, nor jars, nor contentions 
would ever interrupt the delightful flow of reciprocal affection 
between parents and children. No longer should we behold 
the little perverse members of the domestic circle, indulging 
their sulky humours, and endeavouring to thwart the wishes 
of their superiors, nor the infuriated parent stamping and 
raging at the obstinacy of his children ; nor should we hear 
the grating sounds of discord, and insubordination which now 
so frequently issue from the family mansion. Every parental 
command would be cheerfully and promptly obeyed. Reve- 
rence and filial affection would glow in every youthful breast 
towards the father that begat him, and towards the mother that 
gave him birth. Their persons, and their characters would 
be regarded with veneration and respect, and their admoni- 
tions submitted to without a murmur or complaint. To glad- 
den the hearts of their parents, to run at the least signal of 
their will, to share in their benignant smile or approbation, 
and to avoid every species of conduct that would produce the 
least uneasiness or pain — would be the unceasing aim of all 
the youthful members of the family circle. In sickness, they 
would smooth their pillows, and alleviate their sorrows, watch 
like guardian angels around their bed, drop the tear of affection, 
and pour the balm of consolation into their wounded spirits. 
In the decline of life, they would minister with tenderness to 
their support and enjoyment, guide their feeble steps, sympa- 
thize with them in their infirmities, cheer and animate their de- 
jected spirits, and render their passage to the tomb smooth and 
comfortable. And how delighted would every parent feel 
amidst such displays of tenderness and affection ! There is 
perhaps nothing in the whole range of human enjoyment that 
creates a higher and more unmingled gratification to parents, 
than the dutiful and affectionate conduct of their offspring. It 
sweetens all the bitter ingredients of human life, and adds a 
relish to all its other comforts and enjoyments. It imparts a 
continual satisfaction and serenity to the parental breast; it 
smooths the wrinkles of age ; it cheers the spirits under the 
infirmities of declining nature, and makes the dying bed of 
old age comfortable and easy. And the joy and satisfaction 
thus felt by parents would be reflected into the bosom of their 
children ; which would produce a union of interests, a cordi- 
ality of affection, and a peace and tranquillity of mind in every 
member of the family, which no adverse occurrence in future 
life could ever effectually destroy. 

From the family circle the emanations of filial piety would 



IMPORTANCE OF RELATIVE DUTIES. 



190 



spread and diffuse themselves through all the other depart- 
ments of society. The same spirit of love and dutiful respect 
which united and endeared parents to children, and children to 
parents, would unite one family to another, one village to 
to another, one city to another, one province to another, one 
kingdom and empire to another, till all the tribes of the hu- 
man race were united in kindness and affection, as one great 
and harmonious family. Every dutiful child would become a 
faithful and obedient servant, a docile scholar, and a loyal and 
submissive subject, when placed in those relations; and would 
prove a blessing and an ornament to every society of which 
he was a member. And every dutiful and affectionate parent, 
when placed in the station of a king, or a subordinate ruler, 
would display a parental affection towards every member oi 
the community over which he was appointed. Hence it might 
easily be shown, that an uninterrupted and universal observ- 
ance of this single precept, viewed in all its connexions and 
bearings, would completely regenerate the world — and that 
the peace, the harmony, and the prosperity of all the nations 
of the earth, will ultimately depend on the spirit of filial piety 
being infused into every family. "Honour thy father and 
thy mother," says the Apostle, " which is the first command- 
ment with promise ; that it may be ivell with thee, and that 
thou mayest live long upon the earth." These words, which 
are frequently repeated in Scripture, are not empty sounds; 
nor ought they to be deprived, even under the Christian dis- 
pensation, of their obvious and literal meaning. Filial pie- 
ty has a natural tendency to produce health, long life, and 
prosperity ; and could we trace the whole of the secret history 
of Providence in reference to this precept, we should, doubt- 
less, find this position abundantly exemplified. At any rate, 
were it universally practised, it would carry along with it a 
train of blessings which would convert the tumults and con 
vulsions of nations into peace and tranquillity, and transform 
the moral wilderness of this world into a scene of verdure, 
beauty, and loveliness, which would enrapture the mind of 
every moral intelligence ; and, among its other benefits, " length 
of days, and long life and peace," would undoubtedly " be add- 
ed" to the other enjoyments of mankind* 



200 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION* 
THE SIXTH COMMANDMENT, 



" Thou shalt not kill. 

This precept forbids the taking away of the life of sensitive 
or intelligent existence. The command is absolute, without 
the least exception, as it stands in the Decalogue ; and it is 
universal, extending to every rational and moral agent. It 
implies that, as every sensitive and every intelligent being 
derived its existence from the Omnipotent Creator of heaven 
and earth, no one has a right to deprive it of that existence, 
except that Being by whom it was bestowed. And, whatever 
exceptions to the universality of this law may be admitted, 
they can be admitted only on the authority of the Lawgiver 
himself, who is the Original Fountain of existence to all his 
creatures. The principal exceptions to this law are the fol- 
lowing ; — 1. The man who has violently taken away the life 
of another is commanded, by the authority of God, to be put 
to death. " Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his 
blood be shed." This is the dictate of reason as well as ot 
revelation ; for no human power can recal the departed spirit 
or re-animate the lifeless corpse, and no adequate compensa- 
tion can ever be given for such a crime.* 2. The life of the 
lower animals is permitted by the same authority to be taken 
away, when these animals are necessary for our food, or when 
they endanger our existence. This permission was first grant- 
ed, immediately after the flood, to Noah and his descendants. 
"God said to Noah and his sons; every thing that moveth 
shall be meat ftir you ; even as the green herb have I given 
you all things." Without such a positive grant from the Crea- 
tor, man could have had no more right to take away the life 
of an ox or a sheep, than he has to imbrue his hands in the 
blood, oi to feast on the flesh, of his fellow-men. To take 
the life of any sensitive being, and to feed on its flesh, appears 
incompatible with a state of innocence, and therefore, no such 
grant was given to Adam in paradise ; nor docs it appear that 
the Antedeluvians, notwithstanding their enormous crimes, 
ever feasted on the flesh of animals. Tt appears to have been 
a grant suited only to the dcgiaded state of man after the 

* Notwithstanding- the considerations here stated, the Author is doubt- 
ful whether the Creator has conceded to man the right of taking- away 
the life of another, even in case of murder. Jf the passage here quoted 
ought to be considered as a prediction rather than a law, as is most pro- 
bable, it will afford no warrant for the destruction of human life; and 
there is no other injunction of this kind which has any relation to thtt 
New Testament dispcasatioa. 



LAW IN RELATION TO MURDER. 



201 



deluge; and, it is probable, that, as he advances in the scale of 
moral perfection, in the future ages of the world, the use of 
animal food will be gradually laid aside, and he will return 
again to the productions of the vegetable kingdom, as the ori- 
ginal food of man, and as that which is best suited to the rank 
of a rational and moral intelligence. And, perhaps, it may 
have an influence, in combination with other favourable cir- 
cumstances, in promoting health and longevity.— But, although 
the inferior animals, are, in the mean time, subjected to our 
use, no permission is granted to treat them with harshness or 
cruelty, or to kill them for the sake of sport and amusement. 
And, therefore, the man who wantonly takes way the lives of 
birds, hares, fishes, and other animals, for the mere gratifica- 
tion of a taste for hunting or fishing, can scarcely be exculpat- 
ed from the charge of a breach of this commandment. 

The above are the principal exceptions which the Creator 
has made in reference to the law under consideration. And 
it may not be improper to remark, that, besides the direct act 
of murder, every tiling that leads to it, or that has a tendency 
to endanger life, is to be considered as forbidden in this com- 
mandment. All unkindness and harsh treatment exercised to- 
wards servants, dependants, and brute animals, by which life 
may be shortened or rendered intolerable — all furioiw^g**d re- 
vengeful passions, which may lead to acts of violence — all 
quarrelling, fighting, and boxing, either for bets, or for the 
gratification of hatred or revenge— all wishes for the death of 
others, and all contrivances either direct or indirect to com- 
pass the destruction of our neighbour — all criminal negligence 
by which our own life or the life of others may be endangered 
or destroyed — and all those actions by which murder may be 
committed as a probable eflfect, as the burning of inhabited 
houses, and the throwing of the instruments of death into the 
midst of a crowd — are to be regarded as involving the princi- 
ple of mu/der, as well as the direct acts of suicide, duelling, 
and assassination ; and, consequently, as violations of that law 
which extends to the secret purposes of the heart, as well as 
to the external actions. Even unreasonable anger, malice, 
and scurrility are declared by our Saviour to be a specie3 of 
murder: "Whosoever is angry with his brother without a 
cause, shall be in danger of the judgment, and whosoevei 
shall say to his brother, Raca," that is, thou worthless emptj 
fellow, " shall be in danger of the council."* Life is desira 

* Math. v. 22. Christ, in this passage, refers to a common court 
among the Jews, composed of twenty-three men* wherein capital senten- 
ces might be passed, on which a malefactor might be strangled or behead- 



202 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



ble only as it is connected with enjoyment, and, therefore, 
when a man treats his brother with such a degree of hatred 
and scurrility, as to render his existence either unpleasant or 
intolerable, he ought to be ranked among the class of murder- 
ers. For the apostle John declares, without the least limita- 
tion, that 44 whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer, and he 
i that loveth not his brother, abideth in death. " And, if this 
criterion be admitted, a train of murderers will be (bund 
existing in society far more numerous than is generally sup- 
posed. 

It would be needless to attempt an illustration of the con- 
sequences which would ensue, were the breach of this law to 
become universal. It is obvious, on the slightest reflection, 
that were this to happen, human society M ould soon cease to 
exist. That prophecy which was given forth respecting Ish- 
mael would then receive a most terrible and extensive accom- 
plishment, in the case of every human agent: 14 His hand 
shall be against every man, and every man's hand against him." 
Every man would assume the character of an infernal fiend ; 
every lethal weapon would be prepared and furbished for 
slaughter ; every peaceful pursuit and employment would be 
instantly abandoned ; the voice of wailing and the yells of fu- 
, ry an^jespair, would be heard in every family, in every vil- 
lage, in every city, in every field, in every kingdom, and in 
every clime. Every house, every street, every valley, every 
forest, every river, every mountain, and every continent would 
be strewed with fearful devastation, and with the mangled cap 
casses of the slain. The work of destruction would go on 
with dreadful rapidity, till the whole race of man were extir- 
pated from the earth, leaving this vast globe a soene of soli- 
tude and of desolation, an immense sepulchre, and a spectacle 
of horror to all superior intelligences. — And, let it be remem- 
bered, that such a picture, horrible and revolting as it is, is 
nothing more than what would be the natural result of the 
principle of hatred, were it left to its native energies, and were 
it not controlled, in the course of providence, by Him who sets 
restraining bounds to the wrath of man. 

In order to counteract the tendencies of this baleful princi- 
ple, it is of the utmost importance that youth be trained up in 
habits of kindness, tenderness, and compassion, both towards 
human beings, and towards the inferior animals ; that an ab- 
ed: this was called the Judgment. But the Sanhedrim, or Council, was 
the supreme Jewish court, consisting of stvcntij-two ; in which the high- 
est crimes were tried, which they, and they alone, punished with stoning, 
which was considered a more terrible dcatli than the former. 



TENDENCIES OF LOVE. 



203 



horrence should be excited in ihcir minds of quarrelling, fight- 
ing, and all mischievous tricks and actions ; that they be re- 
strained from the indulgence of malicious and resentful pas- 
sions; that every indication of a cruel and unfeeling disposi 
tion be carefully counteracted ; and that every tendency of the 
heart towards the benevolent affections, and every principle of 
active beneficence be cultivated and cherished with the most ♦ 
sedulous care and attention. For, in youth, the foundation 
has generally been laid of those malevolent principles and pas- 
sions which have led to robbery, assassination, and deeds of 
violence, — which have rilled the earth with blood and carnage: 
and which have displayed their diabolical energy in so dread- 
ful a manner amidst the contests of communities and nations. 

Were the disposition to indulge hatred, which leads to 
every species of murder, completely counteracted, the great- 
est proportion of those evils which now afflict our world, 
would cease to exist. Human sacrifices would no longer 
bleed upon Pagan altars ; the American Indians would no 
longer torture to death their prisoners taken in war, nor the 
New Zealanders feast upon the flesh and the blood of their 
enemies. The widows of Hindostan would no longer be urged 
to burn themselves alive on the corpses of their deceased 
husbands ; nor would the mothers of China imbrue their 
hands in the blood of their infant offspring. The practise of 
Duelling would forever cease, and would be universally exe- 
crated as an outrage on common sense, and on every gene- 
rous and humane feeling, and as the siily attempt of a puny 
mortal to giatify wounded pride or disappointed ambition, at 
the expense of the life of his fellow-creature. Despotism 
would throw aside its iron sceptre, and the nations would be 
ruled with the law of love; and plots, conspiracies, treasons, 
and massacres would be attempted no more. The fires of the 
Inquisition would cease to be kindled, the Supposed heretic 
would no longer be consigned to the horrors of a gloomy 
dungeon, racks and gibbets and guillotines would be shivered 
to pieces and thrown into the flames, and the spirit of cruelty 
and persecution would be extirpated from the earth. Riot, 
tumult, and contention would be banished from our streets, 
and harmony and concord would prevail throughout all our 
borders. War would forever cease to desolate the nations ; 
the confused noise of invading armies, the sounds of martial 
music, the groans of dying victims, and the hoarse shouts of 
conquerors, would be heard no more. Peace would descend 
from heaven to dwell with man on earth ; prosperity would 
follow in her train, science would enlarge its boundaries and 



204 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



shed its benign influence upon all ranks ; the useful arts would 
flourish and advance towards perfection ; philanthropy would 
diffuse its thousand blessings in every direction, and every 
man would sit "under his vine and fig-tree" in perfect securi- 
ty from all danger or annoyance. 

SEVENTH COMMANDMENT. 

" Thou shalt not commit adultery" 

This commandment is to be viewed as comprehending with* 
in its prohibition, every species of lewdness, both in thought, 
word, and action ; as adultery, fornication, incest, poligamy, 
&c. ; and likewise all those licentious desires and affections 
from which such actions proceed. In this comprehensive 
sense it is explained by our Saviour, in his Sermon on the 
Mount, and by the Apostles, in their letters to the Christian 
Churches, It is founded on the distinction of sexes which 
exists among mankind, and on the law of Marriage, which was 
promulgated immediately after the creation of the first pair — a 
law which was intended to limit, and to regulate the inter- 
course of the sexes ; and to promote purity, affection, 
and order, among the several generations of mankind. By 
this law the marriage union is limited to two individuals. He 
who made mankind at the beginning, says Christ, made them 
male and female, and said, " For this cause shall a man leave 
father and mother and shall cleave to his wife ; and they twain 
shall be one flesh." And, it might easily be shown, from an 
induction of facts, and from a consideration of the present 
circumstances of the human race, that this law, and this alone, 
is calculated to promote the mutual a flection of the married 
pair, and to secure the peace and happiness of families, and 
the harmony of general society. By this law the union is 
made permanent, so long as the parties exist in this world. 
" What God hath joined, let no man put asunder." This regu- 
lation has a tendency to promote union of affection and inte- 
rests, and to induce the parties to bear with patience the occa- 
sional inconveniences and contentions which may arise. 
Were divorces generally permitted, on the ground of unsuita- 
bleness of temper, or occasional jars, society would soon be 
shaken to its centre. Every real or supposed insult, or pro- 
vocation, would be followed out, till it terminated in the sepa- 
ration of the parties ; families would thus be torn into shreds; 
the education of the young would be neglected ; parental au- 
thority disregarded ; and a door opened for the prevalence of 
unbounded licentiousness. Soon after the commencement of 



LAW OF MARRIAGE. 



the Revolution in France, a law, permitting divorces, wt.s 
passed by ihe National Assembly ; and, in less than three 
months from its date, nearly as many divorces as marriages 
were registered in the city of Paris* In the whole kingdom, 
within the space of eighteen months, upwards of twenty thou- 
sand divorces were effected ; and the nation sunk into a state 
of moral degradation, from the effects of which it has never 
yet recovered. This is one of ihe many practical proofs 
presented before us, of the danger of infringing on any of the 
moral arrangements which the Creator has established. 

The precept under consideration is to be considered as di- 
rectly opposed to all promiscuous and licentious intercourse 
between the sexes. And the reasonableness of this prohibi- 
tion will appear, if we consider, for a moment, what would be 
the consequences which would inevitably follow, were this 
law to be set aside, or universally violated. A scene of un- 
bounded licentiousness would ensue, which would degrade the 
human character, which would destroy almost all the existing 
relations of socieiy, and unhinge the whole fabric cA the moral 
world. — One end of the institution of marriage was, to "re- 
plenish the earth" with inhabitants, to perpetuate the success- 
ive generations of men, and to train up a virtuous and intelli- 
gent race to people the congregation of the heavens. But this 
end would be ultimately frustrated, were a promiscuous and 
unlimited intercourse to become either general or universal. 
For, it has been found, that, wherever such intercourse par- 
tially prevails, it strikes at the root of human existence, and 
has a tendency to prevent the operation of that lav/ which the 
Creator impressed on all living beings, 44 Increase and multi- 
ply." In the haunts of licentiousness, in large cities, and in 
all such societies as those which formerly existed in Otaheite, 
under the name of Arrcoy, the laws of nature are violated, the 
course of generation obstructed, and numbers of human beings 
strangled at the very porch of existence. So that were man- 
kind at large to rehipse into such licentious practices, the hu- 
man race, instead of increasing in number, to replenish the 
desolate wastes of our globe, according to the Creator's in- 
tention, would rapidly decrease every succeeding generation, 
till, after the lapse of a few centuries, human beings would be 
entirely extirpated, and the earth, barren and uncultivated, 
would be left to the dominion of the beasts of the forest. 

But, although such a distant event were to be altogether 
disregarded, the immediate consequences of such unhallowed 
courses would be dismal in the extreme. That union of heart, 
affection, and of interests, which subsists between the great 

IS 



206 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



majority of married pairs, and those reciprocal sympathies and 
endearments w»!iieh flow from this union, would be altogethei 
unknown. The female sex, (as already happens in some na 
tions,) with minds uncultivated and unpolished, would be de- 
graded into mere instruments of sensitive enjoyment, into 
household slaves, or into something analagous to beasts ol 
burden, and would be bought and sold like cattle and horses. 
The minds of all would be degraded to the level of brutes, and 
would be incapable of prosecuting either rational or religious 
pursuits. Their bodies would be wasted and enfeebled with 
squalid disease : the infirmities of a premature old age would 
seize upon them ; and before they had "lived half their days," 
they would sink into the grave in hopelessness and sorrow. A 
universal sottishness, and disregard of every thing except pre- 
sent sensual enjoyment, would seize upon the whole mass of 
society, and benumb the l. nman faculties : the God of heaven 
would be overlooked, and the important realities of an immor- 
tal existence completely banished from their thoughts and 
affections. Thousands, and ten thousands of infants would be 
strangled at their entrance into life ; and the greater part of 
those who were spared, would be doomed to a wretched and 
precarious existence. The training up of the youthful mind 
to knowledge and virtue would be quite neglected; and all 
that civility and softness of manners, which are now acquired 
under the eye of parental authority and affection, would be 
unknown in society. The endearing relations of lather and 
mother, of brothers and sisters, of uncles, aunts, and cousins, 
and all the other ramifications of kindred, which now pro- 
duce so many interesting and delightful associations, would 
fail to be recognized among men ; for in such a state of socie- 
ty, the natural relations of mankind would be either disre- 
garded, or blended in undistinguishable confusion. 

Children, neglected or abandoned by their mothers, would 
be left to the full influence ef their own wayward and impetu- 
ous passions ; they would depend for subsistence, either on 
accident, on pilfering, or on the tender mercies of general so- 
ciety ; they would wander about as vagabonds, tattered and 
forlorn ; their hearts shrivelled with unkindness, their bodies 
chilled with the rains and biting frosts, and deformed with 
filthiness and disease. They would be left to perish in the 
open fields, without a friend to close their eyes ; and their bo- 
dies, unnoticed and unknown, would remain as a prey, to be 
devoured by the fowls of heaven. In every land would be^ 
Been multitudes of houseless and shivering females, set adrift 
by their seducers, wandering with their hungry and half-famish- 



EFFECTS OF LICENTIOUSNESS. 



207 



ed offspring, the objects of derision and contempt; and im- 
ploring, in vain, the comforts of food, of shelter, and protec- 
tion. For, among human beings, in such a degraded state, 
the kindly and benevolent affections would seldom be exer- 
cised: a cold-blooded selfishness and apathy, in relation to 
the sufferings of others, would supplant all the finer feelings of 
humanity; which would dispose them to view the wretched 
objects around them with perfect indifference, and even with 
contempt. " However it may be accounted for," says Dr. Paley, 
"the criminal commerce of the sexes corrupts and depraves 
the mind, and the moral character, more than any single spe- 
cies of vice whatsoever. That ready perception of guilt, that 
prompt and decisive resolution against it, which constitutes a 
virtuous character, is seldom found in persons addicted to 
these indulgences. They prepare an easy admission for every 
sin that seeks it; are, in Jow life, usually the first stage in 
men's progress to the most desperate villanies ; and, in high 
life, to that lamented dissoluteness of principle which mani- 
fests itself in a profligac} r of public conduct, and a contempt of 
the obligations of religion and of moral probity. Add to this 
that habits of libertinism incapacitate and indispose the mind 
for all intellectual, moral, and religious pleasure."* 

In short, in such a state of society as would inevitably ac- 
company a general violation of the seventh precept of the 
moral law, all the softness and loveliness of filial piety, of _i 
parental affection, of brotherly attachment, and of the inter- 
course of kindred, would for ever cease ; science and literature 
would be neglected ; and churches, colleges, schools and 
academies would crumble into ruins : a sufficient stimulus 
would be wanting to the exercise of industry and economy ; a 
lazy apathy would seize upon the mass of society; the earth 
would cease to be cultivated, and would soon be covered with 
briars and thorns, or changed into the barren wastes of an 
African desert. The foundation of all regular government 
would be undermined ; for it is chiefly in those habits of sub- 
mission and obedience which are acquired under the domestic 
roof, that the foundations are laid of that subordination which 
is necessary to secure the peace and order of mankind. So- 
ciety would, consequently, be thrown into a state of disorder, 
and would speedily sink into oblivion, in the mire of its own 
pollution. 

The positions now stated could be illustrated, were it expe- 

* Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy, Book III. Part ILL 
chap 2. 



SOS 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



dient, by a variety of melancholy facts, borrowed from tiro 
History and the present state, both of savage and of civilized 
nations. The annals of Turkey, of Persia, of Hindustan, of 
China, of Japan, of the Society Isles, and even of the civilized 
nations of Europe and America, would furnish abundance of 
impressive facts, to demonstrate the demoralizing, and brutali- 
zing, and miserable effects which would flow from a spirit ot 
universal licentiousness. — What revolting scenes would open 
to view, were we to survey the haunts of licentiousness which 
abound in Algiers, in Constantinople, in Teheran, in Pekin, 
in Canton, in Jeddo, and other populous cities, where the re- 
straints of Christianity are altogether unknown ! In such re- 
ceptacles of impurity, every moral feeling is blunted, and 
every moral principle abandoned. Impiety, profanity, false- 
hood, treachery, perjury, and drunkenness, rear their unblush- 
ing fronts ; and thefts, robberies, and murders, follow in their 
train. The unhappy female who enters these antichambers of 
hell, is, for the most part, cut off from all hopes of retreat. 
From that moment, the shades of moral darkness begin to 
close around her ; she bids a last adieu to the smiles of tender- 
ness and sympathy, to the kind embraces of father and mother, 
of sisters and brothers, to the house of God, to the instructions 
of his word, and to the society of the faithful. Instead of tho 
cheering sounds of the Gospel of peace, her ears become ac 
customed to oaths, and curses, and horrid imprecations ; the 
voice of conscience is hushed amidst the din of revelry and 
riot; every generous feeling is shrunk and withered ; she 
stalks abroad, like a painted corpse, to fill with horror the 
virtuous mind, and to allure the unwary to the shades of death ; 
till at length, wasted with consumption and loathsome disease, 
she is stretched upon the bed of languishing, abandoned by her 
former associates, deprived of the least drop of consolation, 
haunted with the ghastly apparitions of departed joys, and the 
forebodings of futurity, and sinks, -in the midst of her days," 
into the chambers of the grave, without the least hope of a 
glorious resurrection. — And if we consider, that this is a pic- 
ture of the wretchedness, not only of a few individuals, but of 
thousands, of tens of thousands, and of millions of human be- 
ings, it is impossible to describe the accumulated mass of mise- 
ry which impurity has created, or to form any adequate con- 
ception of the horrible and revolting scenes of wretchedness 
which would be displayed, were the law under consideration 
to be set aside by all the inhabitants of our globe. 

There is a certain levity and flippancy of speech, in relation 
to this subject, which prevails among many who wish to be 



EXEMPLIFICATIONS OF LICENTIOUSNESS. 209 

considered as respectable characters, which proceeds from a 
contracted view of the consequences of human actions. They 
conceive, that no great harm can be done to society, by a few 
insulated actions of the kind alluded to, especially if they be 
concealed from general observation; and that the Creator will 
be disposed to make every allowance for human frailty. But 
let such remember, that, if it were right to violate this, or any 
other law of the Creator, in one instance, it would be right in 
a hundred, in a thousand, in a million, and in eight hundred 
millions of instances; and then all the revolting scenes now 
described, and thousands of similar effects, of which we can- 
not at present form a distinct conception, would inevitably 
take place. And, therefore, every man who, from levity and 
thoughtlessness, or from a disregard to the laws of heaven, 
persists in the occasional indulgence of such unhallowed grati- 
fications, indulges in a practice which, were it universally to 
prevail, would sap the foundations of all moral order, exter- 
minate the most endearing relations of society, prostrate man 
below the level of the brute, open the flood-gates of all ini- 
quity, diffuse misery over the whole mass of human beings, 
and, at length, empty the world of its inhabitants. 

The precept which we have now been censidering, is one 
which, in all probability, is confined, in its references, to the 
inhabitants of our globe. At any rate, it would be quite nu- 
gatory, and therefore can have no place, in the moral code of 
a world where the distinction of sexes does not exist. And 
even in those worlds where a similar distinction may exist, 
Che very different circumstances in which their inhabitants are 
placed, may render the promulgation of such a law altogether 
unnecessary. It appears to be temporary regulation, to re- 
main in force only during the limited period of the present econo- 
my of Providence ; for, in the future destination of the right- 
eous, we are told, that " they neither marry nor are given in 
marriage, but are as the angels of God in heaven." And, 
therefore, it is probable, that the recognition of such a law 
will not be necessary, in the intercourses which take place 
among redeemed men in the eternal world ; but the principle 
on which it is founded, and from which it flows, will run 
through all the other new relations and circumstances in 
which they may be placed. In the existing circumstances 
of mankind, however, the operation of this law is essentially 
necessary to the stability and the happiness of the moral 
world ; and, were its requisitions universally observed, the 
melancholy scenes to which I have alluded would no longer 
exist; the present and everlasting ruin of thousands, and of 

18* 



210 



THE PHILOSOPHY OP RELIGION. 



millions, would be prevented ; and a scene of happiness ami 
love, such as the world has never yet witnessed, would be 
displayed among all the families of the earth 

THE EIGHTH COMMANDMENT. 

** Thou shalt not steal" 

When the Creator had arranged our globe in the form m 
which we now behold it, he furnished it with every thing re- 
quisite for the sustenance and accommodation of living beings 
and bestowed the whole of its riches and decorations as 
a free grant to the sons of men. To man he said, " Be- 
hold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon 
the face of all the earth, and every tree in the which is the fruit 
of a tree yielding seed ; to you it shall be for meat. 1 ' Ever 
since the period when this grant was made, God has not left 
himself without a witness to his benignity, in that he has un- 
ceasingly bestow ed on mankind " ruin from heaven, and fruit- 
ful seasons, tilling their hearts with food and gladness." The 
earth has, in every age, brought forth abundance, to supply 
the wants of all the living beings it contains; and there is still 
ample room on its surface, for the accommodation and sup- 
port of thousands of millions of the human race, in addition 
to those which now exist. But mankind have never yet agreed 
about the division and allotment of this free and ample gift of 
the Creator ; for every one is disposed to think that his share 
in it is too small, and is continually attempting to make inroads 
upon the allotment of his neighbours. And to this disposi- 
tion is to be ascribed more than one half of all the evils which 
have afflicted the world in every age since the fall of man. 
To counteract such a propensity in mankind, and to regulate 
their dispositions and conduct in relation to property, is tho 
great object of this command, " Thou shalt not steal." 

To steal, is to take the property of others, without their 
knowledge or consent, and to apply it to our own use. The 
most flagrant and violent breaches of the law, consist in rob- 
bery, housebreaking, pilfering, plunder, and pillage. But it 
may be violated in a thousand different ways, of which hu- 
man laws seldom take any cognizance. It is violated by eve- 
ry species of fraud by which our neighbour may be injured 
in his wealth or property. It is violated in the ordinary 
commerce of mankind, by the use of false weights and mea- 
sures; by selling deteriorated commodities as if they were 
sound and good ; by depreciating the value of what we wish to 



DISHONESTY AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 



buy, and concealing the defects of what we sell ; by contract- 
ing debts which we have no prospect of discharging, and 
neglecting to pay them when they are due : by breaches of 
trust, in the case of servants, guardians, executors, or public 
officers, embezzling and squandering away the substance of 
others, or applying it to their own use. — It is also violated 
by trespassing on the property of others, so as to injure fen- 
ces, gardens, orchards, plantations or cornfields ; and by that 
disposition to vulgar mischief which delights in breaking 
lamps, windows, and fences ; in injuring and defacing public 
buildings, walks, and ornamental improvements; in hacking 
and carving walls, wainscottings, doors, and ballustrades: and 
in cutting down trees and shrubs planted for use or lor orna- 
ment. — It is violated when we retain borrowed articles beyond 
a reasonable time, when we suffer them to be injured through 
negligence, when we circulate them from one person to an- 
other, without the knowledge or consent of the proprietors, 
and when we apply them to purposes for which ti ny were 
never intended, and which the lender never contemplated. — In 
short, this law is violated by every species of idleness, pride, 
vanity, gaming, and prodigality, which has a tendency to in- 
jure the external prosperity, either of our own family, or of 
the families of others. 

Were the law which forbids those actions to be entirely set 
aside, or universally violated, it is easy to foresee, that, in a 
very short time, the whole assemblage of human beings would 
be transformed into a set of lawless banditti. Peace, harmo- 
ny, and good neighbourhood, would be unknown among men; 
the strong would plunder the possessions of the weak, and 
deprive them of every enjoyment; children would rob their 
parents, and parents their children; brothers would plunder 
brothers, and servants their masters; buying and selling wotdd 
cease, and all regular trade and commerce would be destroyed : 
every man's covetous eye would be directed to the wealth 
and property of his neighbour, with a view of depriving him 
of his enjoyments; and a thousand schemes, cither of treache- 
ry or of open violence, would be contrived to effectuate his 
purpose. Murders would be daily contrived and perpetrated, 
for the purpose of more easily obtaining possession of the 
wealth and estates of the powerful and the opulent; and eve- 
ry man's life and happiness would be at the mercy of his 
covetous neighbour. The inhabitants of one province would 
rise up against those of another, and, by force of arms, plun- 
der them of all their earthly treasures. One nation would 
invade the territories of another, for the purpose of ravaging 



212 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



its cities and provinces, and of appropriating its wealth and 
riches; and, in the midst of such lawless depredations, towns 
would be demolished, villages consumed to ashes, the fruits 
of the earth destroyed, men, women, and children, trampled 
under foot, and crushed to death, and every city and fertile 
field would present a scene of carnage and desolation. In 
such a state of society, no man could have confidence in his 
brother^ fear would be on every side ; uncertainty would at- 
tend every pursuit and possession ; of the wealth which any 
one had acquired, and of the enjoyments which he possessed 
to-day, he might be deprived before to-morrow; and if, by 
means of circumspection and vigilance, and the strong arm of 
power, he were enabled to maintain possession of his proper- 
ty for one year, he could have no rational ground to expect, 
that he would enjoy it in security for another. And, as no 
one would think of engaging in regular labour, while he could 
subsist in plundering his weaker neighbours — the earth would 
soon be left uncultivated, the useful arts would be abandoned, 
agricultural industry and improvement would cease, and a uni- 
versal famine would overspread every land, which would thin 
the human race, and gradually exterminate them from the face 
of the earth. 

Such scenes of plunder, and depredation, have in fact been 
partially realized in every age and nation of the world, and 
are still realized, to a certain extent, even in nations which 
boast of their progress in religion, in civilization, and in sci- 
ence. The annals of the human race contain little more 
than a number of melancholy records of wholesale robbery, 
committed by one tribe of human beings upon another. One 
public robber and desperado has arisen after another, in con- 
stant succession, and, at the head of numerous armies, has vio- 
lated the territories of peaceful industry, demolished the 
habitations of their unoffending inhabitants, broken down their 
furniture, and consigned it to the flames; wasted and devour- 
ed the fruits of their ground, and plundered them of every 
thing which could render existence desirable. And the infe- 
rior ranks of mankind, stimulated by the same principles 
which actuate their superiors, have supported a system of pe- 
culation, ol cheating, of litigation, of injustice, and oppression, 
which, were it left solely to its own native energies, would 
soon undermine the foundations of the moral world. That 
such principles and practices have never yet become universal 
in their operation, is not owing so much to any deficiency in 
their malignant tendency, as to the over-ruling providence of 
the Moral Governor of the world, who has, by his influence* 



EFFECTS OF HONESTY. 



213 



and his physical arrangements, confined the lawless passions 
of men within certain bounds, beyond which they cannot 
pass. 

Were a principle of honesty and of justice, in regard to 
property, to pervade the mind of every human being; or, in 
other words, were the law to which 1 am now adverting uni- 
versally recognized, a new scene would open upon the moral 
world, altogether different from what has hitherto been dis- 
played in the transactions of mankind. The iron rod of op- 
pression would be shivered to atoms, and destroying armies 
would no longer ravage the habitations of men. The crowds 
of sharpers, cheats, and jockeys, that now stalk through the 
world, with unblushing fronts, to entrap the unwary, would 
forever disappear from the world ; and impartial justice would 
reign triumphant over every department of society. No ma- 
lignant purpose would ever be formed to injure any one in his 
wealth and property ; and all the harassing law-suits and 
prosecutions, which now distress so many thousands of fa- 
milies, would be swept away. Every loan of money, books, 
furniture, or utensils, would be returned without injury, and 
without unnecessary delay ; and every debt punctually dis- 
charged, according to the nature of the obligation, and at the 
period at which ii was din- : Every bargain would be trans- 
acted on the principles of immutable justice, and the condi- 
tions of every contract faithfully performed : No suspicions 
of knavery won!;! ever harbour in the breast, nor the least 
alarm at the possible consequences of any mercantile trans- 
action. Public buildings would be secure from the inroads of 
the genius of misch.ef, and gardens and orchards from every 
wanton depredation. Locks, and bars, and bolts, would no 
longer bj required for recurirfg our substance from the pilfer- 
er and the robber ; and the iron gratings of a bridewell or a 
jail, would never again remind us of the dishonesty and the 
depravity of man. Servants would be universally honest 
and trust-worthy, and the property of their masters would be 
regarded as a sacred deposit. 

And what a happy change would such a state of a society 
introduce among mankind ! What a host of cares, anxieties, 
suspicions, vexations, and perplexities, would be chased away ! 
and what a world of conveniences, and of delightful associa- 
tions, would thus be created ! Every merchant, by marking 
the price and the quality of each commodity, might leave his 
goods open to the inspection of' the public, and enjoy himself in 
the bosom of his family, or in active services lor the good of 
the community, without the least risk of loss or of depreda- 



214 



THE PHILOSOPHY CF RELIGION. 



tions; and every purchaser might depend upon procuring the 
articles he wanted at their just value. Every traveller would 
prosecute his journey, eitiier by day or by night, without the 
least apprehension from sharpers or robbers, and without be- 
ing harassed by the impositions of inn-keepers, coachman, car- 
riers, and porters. Every one's mind would be at perfect 
ease, in regard to his property, whether he were at home or 
abroad, in health or in sickness; being firmly persuaded that 
every trust would be faithfully discharged, and every com- 
mercial concern fairly and honourably transacted. Selfish- 
ness and rapacity would give place to a spirit of justice, equi- 
ty, and benevolence ; contentions, jockeyings, and altercations 
would cease; peace and concord would prevail, and righteous- 
ness and truth would shed their benign influence over the 
whole brotherhood of mankind. 

THE NINTH COMMANDMENT. 

" Thou shalt not hear false witness against thy neighbour." 

This command, like most of the others, is expressed in a 
negative form. It is directed against every species of false 
hood, and, consequently, must be viewed as inculcating a sa- 
cred and universal adherence to truth in all our thoughts, 
words, and actions. In the remarks I may throw out in rela- 
tion to this precept, I shall consider it chiefly in its positive 
form, as commanding an inviolable attachment to truth. Truth 
may be considered in two different points of view — logics 
truth, which consists in the conformity of a -proposition Gr as- 
sertion with the actual state of things ; and moral truth, which 
consists in the agreement of our words and actions with our 
thoughts. Logical truth belongs to the thing or the fact as- 
serted ; moral truth, or what is termed veracity, has a refer- 
ence to the person who utters it. In both these respects, 
truth is of immense importance to all intelligent beings. — The 
importance of truth and veracity will appear from the follow- 
ing considerations. 

In the first place, it is the bond of society, and the founda- 
tion of all that confidence and intercourse which subsist among 
rational beings. By far the greater part of all the knowledge 
we possess, has been derived from the testimony of others. 
It is from the communication of others, and from a reliance 
on their veracity, that those who were never beyond the limits 
of Great Britain, know that there are such cities as Paris, Vi- 
enna, Constantinople, and Cairo ; and that there are such 



IMPORTANCE OF TRUTH. 



215 



tountries as Canada, Nova Scotia, Brazil, Peru, Persia, China, 
and Flind os tan. It is from the same sunurce that we have 
learned the facts of ancient and modern history, and that there 
once existed such empires as the Greek and Roman, the Per- 
sian, Assyrian, -and Babylonian. On the same ground; the ve- 
racity of others, we confide in all the domestic relations and 
intercourses of life; and on this ground all the transactions of 
commercial society, and all the arrangements and operations 
of government are conducted. On the implied veracity of 
others, we retire from our employments at certain hours, and 
and sit down to breakfast or dinner; and, on the first day of 
the week, we assemble in a certain place, at an appointed 
hour, for religious worship. On this ground, the* pupil con- 
fides in his teacher, for instruction — the child in his parents, 
for sustenance, clothing and protection, the master in his ser- 
vant, for the execution of his orders, and the wife in her hus- 
band for provision and support. We confide every moment 
in the faithfulness of the Almighty for the regular returns of 
day and night, of summer and winter, of seed-time and har- 
vest. Could the veracity of God be impeached or rendered 
liable to suspicion, we should remain in awful suspense, whe- 
ther another day would again dawn upon the world, or whether 
the earth would be shattered to pieces, and its fragments dis- 
persed throughout surrounding worlds, before the sun again 
appeared in the horizon. A Being possessed of boundless 
knowledge and omnipotence, without veracity, would be the 
terror of the whole intelligent universe, and would fili them 
with universal agitation and alarm. 

Again, truth is the foundation of our present comfort and 
of our future prospects. On the veracity of those illustrious 
characters that have gone before us, whose declarations were 
confirmed by signs and miracles ; we depend for the hope of 
forgiveness and acceptance with God, and for those rich sour- 
ces of consolation which are calculated to support the mind 
under the afflictions of mortality, and to cheer and animate us 
in the prospect of a future world. Our hopes of happiness 
beyond the grave, of the resurrection of our bodies at the ter- 
mination of the present plan of providence — of the renovation 
of the physical system of our globe — of a complete restoration 
to holiness and virtue — of a re-union with departed friends — 
of associating with virtuous beings of a superior order — of 
mingling in a happier world with all those illustrious saints 
who have gone before us — of contemplating the manifestations 
of Deity on a more extensive scale ; and of enjoying unmixed 
felicity without interruption, and without end; depend upon 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



the testimony of the inspired writers, and the light in which we 
view the truths or declarations which they have recoided. 
And, there foie, the man who endeavours to undermine the au- 
thority of the sacred records, or to distort or misrepresent 
their meaning l y sophistical reasonings, ought to be viewed 
as a deceiver, and as an enemy to his species, who wishes to 
deprive his fellow-men of their most substantial enjoyments, 
and of their most cheering prospects. 

Again, truth and veraciiy are of the utmost importance in 
relation to the views we ought to take of the character of Gcd. 
The moral character of the Deity is delineated in the Scrip- 
tures, and we are enabled to contemplate this character, in its 
true light, in so far as we understand and appreciate the de- 
lineations of the sacred writers. But his character is also ex- 
hibited in the works of creation and providence. Every phy- 
sical law of nature, every arrangement in the material system, 
every movement which exists in the boundless universe ; every 
apparent deviation from the general course of nature, as in the 
case of earthquakes and volcanoes ; every event in the history 
of nations, every fact in relation to the physira! and moral 
condition of the different tribes of the human nu°, and every 
arrangement in reference to the lower ranks of an. 'mated be 
ings — embodies in it an exhibition of certain aspect, of the 
divine character; and these aspects, if fairly represented, jught 
to harmonize with the delineations contained in the sacred 
records. To ascertain such facts as those to which 1 now al- 
lude, requires, in many instances, the exercise of profound rea- 
soning, and of accurate investigation, and that the mind should 
be free from the influence of prejudice and of every improper 
bias, and that the facts, when ascertained, be fairly represented, 
and accurately recorded ; otherwise, nothing but a distorted 
view of the divine character will be exhibited to the mind. 
For example, if the earth he represented as among the largest 
bodies in nature, and as placed at rest in the centre of the uni- 
niverse, and that the sun. moon, and all the other celestial orbs re- 
volve around it every day. and consequently, that the planetary 
bodies move in orbits which display inextricable con fusion — such 
a representation is not a true exhibition of the Cod of heaven, 
but a phantom of our own imaginations ; and, if carried out 
to all its legitimate consequences, would involve an impeach- 
ment of the wisdom and intelligence of the Deity, and cf the 
sublime simplicity and order, which characterize his opera- 
tions in the universe. If the planet Saturn be represented a§ 
a globe 900 times larger than the earth, and surrounded with 
a ring 000,000 miles in circumference, it conveys a very difTo 



IMPORTANCE OF TRUTH. 



217 



ent idea of the majesty of the divine Being who formed it, from 
what we are led to entertain, when we consider it as only a 
taper, or a brilliant stud, fixed in the vault of heaven. If the 
eye of a fly be exhibited as a containing ten thousand polished 
transparent globes, nicely adjusted for the purpose of vision, 
it displays the character of its Maker in a different light from 
that in which we might be disposed to view it, when this ani- 
mal is represented as a nuisance in creation, and designed only 
to be mangled and tortured by a cruel and unthinking school- 
boy. 

In some instances the inaccurate statement of a physical fact, 
or the false colouring put upon it, may have a tendency to en- 
danger the eternal interests of mankind. Mr. Brydone, in Vis 
"Tour through Sicily/' states, on the authority of a priest, 
named Recupero, that, in sinking a pit near Jaci, in the neigh- 
bourhood of Mount Etna, "they pierced through seven dis- 
tinct lavas, one under the other, the surfaces of which were 
parallel, and most of them covered with a bed of thick earth." 
From suppositions founded on questionable data, he conclud 
ed, that 44 it requires 2000 years or upwards to form but a 
scanty soil on the surface of a lava," and, consequently, that 
" the eruption which formed the lowest of these lavas, must 
have flowed from the mountain, at least 14,000 years ago." 
This pretended fact was, for a while, triumphantly exhibited 
by sceptics, as an unanswerable argument against the truth of 
the Mosaic history ; and its publication has, no doubt, tended 
to stagger weak minds, and to confirm the infidel in his preju- 
dices against the truth of Revelation. But it has been shown 
by eminent geologists, that the facts alluded to are grossly 
mis-stated, and that no vegetable mould exists between these 
beds of lava ; and, consequently, the argument founded upon 
them goes for nothing. Mr. Brydone himself, in the very same 
volume in which these pretended facts are stated, before he 
had advanced twenty pages farther in his account of the re- 
gions about Mount Etna, states a fact which completely over- 
turns all his preceding reasonings and calculations, In de- 
scribing the country near Hybla, as having been " overwhelm- 
ed by the lava of Etna, and having then become totally bar 
ren," he adds, "in a second eruption, by a shower or asnes 
from the mountain, it soon resumed its ancient beauty and fer- 
tility." So that it is here admitted, that, instead of requiring 
a period of 2000 years, a be J of lava may speedily be trans- 
formed into a beautiful and fertile region. But even although 
such facts were fairly represented, — yea, although Mr. Bry- 
done and the Canon Recupero could have proVed, to a demon* 

19 



218 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



stration, that the strata of the earth is not only fourteen thou- 
sand, but fourteen hundred thousand years old, it would not 
in the least invalidate a single assertion contained in the Mo- 
saic history ; for Moses describes only the arrangement oi 
the earth into its present form, but no where asserts, that the 
materials of which our globe is composed were created^ or 
brought out of nothing, at the period at which his history 
commences. The circumstance, however, to which I have 
now adverted, shows us of how much importance it is, in ma 
ny cases, that even a physical fact be fairly stated, as well as 
the moral facts and the doctrines contained in the Scriptures. 
For, since every fact in the economy of nature, and in the his- 
tory of providence, exhibits a certain portion of the divine cha- 
racter, a very different view of this character will be exhibited, 
according to the different lights in which we view the divine ope- 
rations. And therefore, every one who wilfully misrepresents 
a physical fact or law of nature, is a deceiver, who endeavours 
to exhibit a distorted view of the character of theDiety. It is no- 
thing less than a man " bearing false witness" against bis Maker. 

Again, veracity is of infinite in portance in reference to our 
future improvement in the eternal world. In that world, we 
have every reason to believe our knowledge of the attributes 
of God will be enlarged, and our views of the range of hi& 
operations in creation and providence extended far beyond the 
limits to which they are now confined. But the Divine Being 
himself, from the immateriality and imme nsity of his nature, 
will remain forever invisible to all finite intelligences ; and 
uence he is described by the Apostle, as i% the King Eternal, 
Immortal, and Invisible, whom no man hath seen or can see." 
It is, therefore, not only probable, but absolutely certain, that 
a great portion, perhaps the greatest portion of our know- 
ledge in that state, will be derived from the communications 
of other intelligences. With intellectual beings of a higher 
order we shall hold the most intimate converse ; for we are 
informed, that u just men made perfect" will join 44 the innu- 
merable company of angels." These beings are endued with 
capacious powers of intellect, and have long been exercising 
them on the most exalted objects. As messengers from the 
King of heaven to the inhabitants of the earth, they have fre- 
quently winged their way through the celestial regions, and 
surveyed many of those glorious systems which lie hid from 
the view of mortals. We have every reason to believe, that 
they have acquired expansive views of the dispensations of 
the Almighty, not only in relation to man, but in relation to 
numerous worlds and intelligences in different provinces of 



IMPORTANCE OF TRUTH. 



219 



the empire of God. And, therefore, they must be admirably 
qualified to impart ample stores of information on the sublimcst 
subjects, to the redeemed inhabitants from our world. From the 
communications of these intelligences we may derive in forma* 
tion of the order and arrangements of other systems ; of the 
natural scenery of other worlds ; of the different orders of in- 
tellectual beings who people them ; of the means by which 
they are carried forward in moral and intellectual improve- 
ment ; of the most remarkable events which have happened 
in the course of their history ; of the peculiar displays of di- 
vine glory that may be made to them, and of the various 
changes through which they may have passed in the course of 
the divine dispensations. 

But the utility of all such sublime communications, and the 
delightful transports with which they will be accompanied, 
will entirely depend upon the immutable veracity of these 
moral intelligences who shall be employed in conveying infor- 
mation respecting divine plans and operations. No^c/i- 
tious scenes and narrations will be invented, as in our degene- 
rate world, to astonish a gaping crowd ; nothing but unvar- 
nished truth will be displayed in that world of light ; and the 
real scenes which will be displayed, will infinitely transcend, 
in beauty, in grandeur, and in interest, ail that the most fertile 
imagination can conceive. Were a single falsehood to be told 
in heaven, were the tongue of an archangel to misrepresent a 
single fact in the divine economy, or were the least suspicion 
to exist that truth might be violated in such communications, 
the mutual confidence of celestial intelligences would instantly 
be shaken ; and, from that moment, their intercourse and their 
happiness would be destroyed. Hence, we are repeatedly 
told, in the book of Revelation, that, 44 Whosoever loveth, or 
maketh a lie, shall in nowise enter within the gates of the new 
Jerusalem. " And, therefore, every one who expects to be an 
inhabitant of that happy world, ought now to cultivate a strict 
regard to truth and veracity in all its researches, intercourses, 
and communications ; otherwise he cannot be admitted, from 
the very constitution of things, to the society of saints and 
angels in the realms of bliss. 

Thus it appears, that truth is of the utmost importance to 
all rational beings, as it forms the source of our knowledge, the 
foundation of all social intercourse, the ground of our present 
comfort and future prospects, the basis of all the views we can 
take of the Divine character and operations, and of all our pros- 
pects of future improvement in the eternal world. It is the 
bond of union among all the inhabitants of heaven ; it is the 



220 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



chain which connects the whole moral universe; and it con 
stitutes the immutable basis on which rests the throne of thr 
Eternal. 

In the depraved society of our world, truth is violated it 
ten thousand different ways. It is violated in thoughts, ia 
words, in conversation, in oral discourses, in writings, in print- 
ed books, by gestures and by signs, by speaking, and by re- 
maining silent. It is violated in reference to the character of 
our neighbour* when we invent tales of falsehood respecting 
him; when we listen with pleasure to such tales when told by 
others; when we sit mute, and refuse to vindicate his charac- 
ter when it is unjustly aspersed ; when we endeavour to ag- 
gravate the circumstances which may have accompanied any 
criminal action; when we make no allowances for the force 
of temptation, and the peculiar circumstances in which the 
criminal may have been placed : when we fix upon an insula 
ted act of vice or folly, and apply it to cur neighbour as a gen 
eral character; when we rake up. with a malevolent design, 
an action which he has long since reprobated and repented of; 
when his character is made the subject of jest or merriment, 
and when, by smiles, and noddings, and gestures, we insinuate 
any thing injurious to his reputation. It is violated in promi- 
ses — when we promise, either what we have no intention of 
performing, or what we had no right to promise, or what is out 
of our power to perform, or what would be unlawful for us to 
execute. It is violated in threatenings, when we neglect to put 
them in execution, or we threaten to inflict what would be 
either cruel or unjust. It is violated 'mhisiory, when the princi- 
pal facts are blended with doubtful or fictitious circumstances ; 
when the conduct of liars and intriguers, of public robbers 
and murderers, is varnished over with the false glare of hero- 
ism and of glory ; and when the actions of upright men are, 
without sufficient evidence, attributed to knavery, or to the 
influence of fanaticism ; when the writer construes actions 
and events, and attributes to the actors motives and designs, 
in accordance with his own prejudices and passions, and inter- 
weaves his opinions and deductions, as if they were a portion 
of the authenticated records of historical fact. — It is violated 
in the invention of fictitious narratives, and in the relation of 
marvellous stories, when the system of nature is distorted, his- 
torical facts caricatured, misrepresented, and blended with the 
vagaries of a romantic imagination ; when scenes, events, and 
circumstances, "which never did nor can take place," are pre- 
sented to the view, merely to convey a transient gratiflcatioD 
to trifling and indolent minds. 



VIOLATIONS OF TRUTH. 



It is violated by men of science when they give an inaccu- 
rate statement of the results of their observations and experi- 
ments ; when, either through carelessness or design, they give 
an unfair representation of the facts and principles in nature, 
in order to support a favourite system or hypothesis ; and 
when they studiously keep out of view the various circumstan- 
ces in which every fact should be contemplated. — It is violat- 
ed in the literary world, when the editor of a magazine or a 
review writes an article, and addresses it to himself, as if it 
came from the pen of another ; when, for the sake of " filthy 
lucre," or to gratify a friend, he bestows encomiums on a work 
which is unworthy of the attention of the public ; or when, to 
gratify a mean, or revengeful passion, he misrepresents or 
abuses the literary productions of his opponents ; or when an 
author writes a review of his own work, and imposes it on 
the public, as if it were the decision of an impartial critic. — It 
is violated by controversialists, when they bring forward ar- 
guments in support of any position which they are conscious 
are either weak or unsound ; when they appear more anxious 
to display their skill and dexterity, and to obtain a victory 
over their adversaries, than to vindicate the cause of truth ; 
when sneers, and sarcasms, and personal reproaches, are sub- 
stituted in the room of substantial arguments ; when they mis- 
represent the sentiments of their opponents, by stating them 
in terms which materially alter their meaning; and when they 
palm upon them the doctrines and opinions which they entire- 
ly disavow. 

It is violated in commercial transactions, when deteriorat- 
ed goods are varnished over with a fair outside, and puffed off 
as if they were saleable and sound ; when a merchant asks 
more than he is willing to take for any commodity; when he de- 
precates the commodities of his neighbour ; when he undervalues 
whatever he is purchasing, and makes an overcharge for the 
articles of which he is disposing; when he denies the goods he 
has in his possession, when there is the prospect of an advanc- 
ing price, — and in a thousand other ways, best known to the 
nefarious trader. — It is violated by persons in every depart- 
ment of life, not only when they utter what they know to be 
false, but when they profess to declare the whole truth, and 
keep back part of it with an intention to deceive ; when they 
make use of a proposition that is literally true, in order to con- 
vey a falsehood ;* when they Hatter the vanity of weak minds ; 

* The following fact wilt illustrate this and similar pieces of falsehood j 
—A person, when selling a watch, was asked by the purchaser if it kept 



19* 



222 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF REL CTON. 



when they ascribe to their friends or to others good qualities 
which do not belong to them, or refuse to acknowledge those 
accomplishments of which they arc possessed ; when ihey en- 
deavour to cajole children into obedience, by promising what 
they never intend to perform, and threatening what they never 
intend to inflict; and when they indulge In a habit of exagge- 
ration, in the account they give of their adventures, and of the 
things which they have seen or heard. 

Truth is violated by sig?i$, as well as by words, — as, when 
we point with otir finger in a wrong direction, when a travel- 
ler is inquiring about the road he should take ; when a British 
ship hoists Spanish colours ; when flags of truce are violated; 
when spies insinuate themselves into society as upright men, 
for the purpose of entrapping the unwary; when false intelli- 
gence is communicated to an enemy ; when tires are lighted, 
or put out, in order to deceive mariners at sea ; and when sig- 
nals of distress are counterfeited by ships at sea, for the pur- 
pose of decoying into their power the ships of an enemy. 

Truth is violated in relation to God, w hen we conceal from 
those whom we are bound to instruct, the grandeur and im- 
mensity of Ins works, and the displays of divine intelligence 
and skill which are exhibited in his visible operations ; when 
we exhibit a diminutive view of the extent and glory of his 
kingdom; when we give an inaccurate and distorted repre- 
sentation of the laws of nature, and of the order and the 
economy of the universe; when we misrepresent the facts 
which exist in the system of nature, and which occur in the 
truth of providence ; when we call in question the history of 
that revelation which he has confirmed by signs and miracles, 
and by the accomplishment of numerous predictions ; when 
we misrepresent its facts, it doctrines, and its moral requisi- 
tions ; when we transform its historical narrations into a series 
of parables and allegories; when we distort its literal mean- 
ing by vague and injudicious spiritualizing comments ; when 
we fix our attention solely on its doctrine, and neglect to in- 
vestigate its moral precepts; and when we confine our views 

time correctly? He was told by the owner, that neither the hour nor the 
minute hand had required to he altered for more than a twelve-month. 
T'lis was literally true; but the watch was, nevertheless, a very bad 
regulator of time. When hung in a perpendicular position, it went too 
elovT, and, when laid in a horizontal position, it went too fast; but by 
alternately shifting these positions, and thus modifying the rates of mo- 
tion» the hands did not require to be altered. Such assertions, however* 
3*re to be considered as direct lies, when they arc intended to convey * 
false or erroneous conception, as in the instance now stated. 



VIOLATIONS OF TRUTH. 



223 



to a few points in the system of revelation, and neglect to con- 
template its whole range, in all its aspects and bearings. 

In the above, and in ten thousand other modes, is the law 
of truth violated by the degenerate inhabitants of our world. 
The mischiefs and the miseries which have followed its viola- 
tion, in reference to the affairs of nations, to the private inter- 
ests of societies, families, arm individual?, and to the everlast- 
ing concerns of mankind, are incalculable, and dreadful beyond 
description. It is one of the principal sources from which 
have sprung the numerous abominations and cruelties con- 
nected with the system of Pagan idolatry, the delusions and 
the persecuting spirit of the votaries of Mahomet, and the 
pretended miracles, and " the lying wonders," of that church 
which is denominated " the mother of harlots and abomina- 
tions of the earth." It has been chiefly owing to the violation 
of this law, that the thrones of tyrants have been supported, 
that liberty has been destroyed, that public safety and happi- 
ness have been endangered, that empires have been overturn- 
ed, that nations have been dashed one against another, and 
that war has produced among the human race so many over- 
whelming desolations. By the pernicious influence of false- 
hood, the peace of families has been invaded, their comforts 
blasted, their good name dishonoured, their wealth destroyed, 
their hopes disappointed, and their bright prospects of happi- 
ness involved in a cloud of darkness and despair. By the 
sophistry of unprincipled men, literature and science have 
been perverted, and the avenues to substantial knowledge ren- 
dered difficult and dangerous ; litigations have been multiplied 
without number; human beings have been agitated, perplex- 
ed, and bewildered ; and the widow and the fatherless oppress- 
ed and robbed of their clearest enjoyments. Could we search 
the private records of ancient kings, princes, and legislators, 
and trace the deceitful plans which have been laid in palaces 
and cabinets — or could we, at this moment, penetrate into all 
the intrigues, deceptions, treacheries, plots, and machinations, 
which are going forward in the cabinets of despots, the man- 
sions of princes, and the courts of law, throughout Europe, 
Africa, and Asia ; such a host of falsehoods and " lying abomi- 
nations," like an army of spectres from the infernal regions, 
would stare us in the face, as would make us shrink back with 
horror and amazement, and fill us with astonishment that the 
patience of the God of heaven has been so long exercised to- 
wards the inhabitants of such a depraved and and polluted 
world. 



224 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



Let us now consider, for a little, some of the effects which 
would inevitably follow were the law of truth universally vio- 
lated. In this case a scene of horror and confusion would 
ensue, of which it is difficult for the mind to form any distinct 
conception. It is obvious, in the first place, that rational 
beings could never improve in knowledge, beyond the ran.e 
of the sensitive objects that happened to be placed within the 
6phere of their personal observation. For, by far the greater 
part of our knowledge is derived from the communications of 
others, and from the stimulus to intellectual exertion which such 
communications produce. — Let us suppose a human being 
trained up, from infancy, in a wilderness, by a bear or a wolf, 
as history records to have been the case of several individuals 
in the forests of France, Germany, and Lithuania, — what 
knowledge could such a being acquire beyond that of a brute? 
He m. : ght distinguish a horse from a cow, and a man from a 
dog, and know that such objects as trees, shrubs, grass, flow- 
ers, and water- existed around him ; but knowledge, strictly 
so called, and the. proper exercise of his rational faculties, he 
could not acquire, so long as he remained detached from other 
rational beings. Such would be our situation, were falsehood 
universal among men. We could acquire a knowledge of no- 
thing but what was obvious to our senses in the objects with 
which we were surrounded. We could not know whether the 
earth were twenty miles, or twenty thousand miles in extent, 
and whether oceans, seas, rivers, and ranges of mountains, ex- 
isted cn its surface, unless we had made the tour of it in per- 
son, and, with our own eyes, surveyed the various objects it 
contains. Of course, we should remain in absolute ignorance 
of the existence and the attributes of God, of the moral rela- 
tions of intelligent beings to their Creator, and to one ano- 
ther, and of the realities of a future state. For it is only, or 
chiefly, through the medium of testimony, combined with the 
evidence of our senses, that we acquire a knowledge of such 
truths and objects. 

In the next place, all confidence among intelligent beings, 
would be completely destroyed. Disappointment would in- 
variably attend every purpose and resolution, and every 
scheme we wished to execute, if it depended in the least de- 
gree upon the direction or assistance of others. We dur st not 
taste an article of food which we received from another, lest it 
should contain poison ; nor could we ever construct a house to 
shelter us from the storm, unless our own physical powers 
were adequate to the work. Were we living in Edinburgh, 
we could never go to Musselburgh or Dalkeith, if we were 



EFFECTS OF UNIVERSAL FALSEHOOD. 



225 



previously ignorant of the situation of these places ; or were 
we residing in London, it would be impossible for us ever to 
find our way to Ilommerton or Hampstead, unless, after a 
thousand attempts, chance should happen to direct us ; and 
when we arrived at either of these villages, we should still be 
in as much uncertainty as ever whether it was the place to 
which we intended to direct our steps. Confidence being 
destroyed, there could be no friendship, no union of hearts, no 
affectionate intercourse, no social converse, no consolation or 
comfort in the hour of distress, no hopes of deliverance in the 
midst of danger, and no prospect of the least enjoyment from 
any being around us. In such a case, the mind would feel it- 
self as in a wilderness, even when surrounded by fellow-intel- 
ligences, and wherever it roamed over the vast expanse of na- 
ture, or among the mass of living beings around it, it would 
meet with no affectionate interchange of feelings and sentiments, 
and no object on which it could rest for solace and enjoyment. 
Every one would feel as if he were placed in the midst of an 
infinite void, and as if he were the only being residing in the 
universe. In such a case we would flee from the society of 
of men as we would do from a lion or a tiger when rushing on 
his prey ; and hide ourselves in dens, and forests, and caverns 
of the earth, till death should put a period to a cheerless and 
miserable existence. 

All social intercourses and relations would cease ; — families 
could not possibly exist; nor any affectionate intercourse be- 
tween the sexes ; for truth, and the confidence which is founded 
upon it, are implied in all the intercourses of husbands and 
wives, of brothers and sisters, and of parents and children ; — 
and consequently, the human race, dropping into the grave, 
one after another, like the leaves of autumn, without any suc- 
cessors, would, in a short time, be extirpated from the earthy 
In such a state, kindness and affection would never be exer- 
cised ; trade ami commerce, buying and selling, social com- 
pacts and agreements would be annihilated ; science, litera- 
ture, and the arts, could not exist ; and consequently, univer- 
sities, colleges, churches, academies, schools, and every other 
seminary of instruction would be unknown. No villages, 
towns, nor cities wouid be built; no fields cultivated; no or- 
chards, vineyards, nor gardens planted ; no intercourse would 
exist between different regions of the globe ; and nothing but 
one dreary barren waste would be presented to the eye, 
throughout the whole expanse of nature. So that were truth 
completely banished from the earth, it would present a picture 
of that dark and dismal region where " all liars have their por* 



226 



the philosophy of religion. 



tion !" where all are deceivers and deceived, and where the 
hopeless mind roams amidst innumerable false intelligences, 
for one ray of comfort, or one confidential spirit in which it 
may confide, but roams in vain. 

In short, were truth banished not only from this world, but 
from the universe at large, creation would be transformed into 
a chaos ; the bond which now connects angels and archangels, 
cherubim and seraphim in one harmonious union, would be 
forever dissolved ; the inhabitants of ail worlds would be 
thrown into a state of universal anarchy ; they would shun 
each other's society, and remain as so many cheerless and in- 
sulated wretches, amidst the gloom and desolations of univer- 
sal nature; all improvement in knowledge, and all progressive 
advances towards moral perfection, would be forever inter- 
rupted ; and happiness would be banished from the whole 
intelligent system. Every mind would become the seat of 
terror and suspense, and would be haunted with frightful 
spectres and dreadful expectations. The government of the 
Eternal would be subverted, the moral order of the intelligent 
system overturned ; ail subordination would cease, and misery 
would reign uncontrolled throughout every region of intellec- 
tual existence. For truth is implied in the principle of love : 
it is essential to its existence; so that the one cannot operate 
except on the basis of the other : and we have already shown, 
that the destruction of love would be the destruction of all 
order, and of all happiness among intelligent be ings. 

Suc'h are some oi' the dreadful efiects which would inevita- 
bly follow, were the law under consideration reversed or uni- 
versally violated. In our world this law has, hitherto, been 
only partially violated ; yet what dreadful mischiefs, beyond 
calculation, and even beyond conception, has its frequent vio- 
lation created ! Ever since that moment when "the father of 
lies" deceived the first human pair, how many thousands of 
millions of liars have trodden in his footsteps! and what a 
host of falsehoods lias followed in their train, which have 
destroyed the harmony of the moral system, and robbed the 
world of happiness and repose ! Yet how little are we affect- 
ed by the frequent violations of this law? and how seldom do 
we reflect, that every falsehood we unadvisedly utter, is an 
infringement of that law on which rest the throne of the Al- 
mighty and the eternal happiness of the universe? For if one 
lie may be palliated or vindicated, on the same principle we 
might vindicate a thousand, and a million, and millions of mil- 
lions, till falsehood became universal among all ranks of beings 
and till the moral order of the intelligent creation was com- 



EFFECTS OF UNIVERSAL VERACITY. 



227 



pletely subverted. Of how much importance is it then, that 
an inviolable attachment to truth, in its minutest ramifications, 
be early impressed upon the minds of the young, by persua- 
sion, by precept, by example, by reasoning, and by a vivid 
representation of its impor tance, and of its inestimable bene- 
fits ? and how careful should we be to preserve them from all 
incentives to the practice of lying, and especially from the 
company of those " whose mouth speaketh vanity, and theii 
right hand is a right hand of falsehood." 

Were falsehood universally detested, and the love of truth 
universally cherished; were a single lie never more to be 
uttered by any inhabitant of this globe, what a mighty change 
would be effected in the condition of mankind, and what a glo- 
rious radiance would be diffused over all the movements of 
the intelligent system ? The whole host of liars, perjurers, 
sharpers, seducers, slanderers, tale-bearers, quacks, thieves, 
swindlers, harpies, fraudulent dealers, false friends, flatterers, 
corrupt judges, despots, sophists, hypocrites, and religious im- 
postors, with the countless multitude of frauds, treacheries, 
impositions, falsehoods, and distresses which have followed in 
their train, would instantly disappear from among men. The 
beams of truth, penetrating through the mists of ignorance, 
error, and perplexity, produced by sophists, sceptics, and de- 
ceivers, which have so long enveloped the human mind, would 
diffuse a lustre and a cheerfulness on the face of the moral 
world, like the mild radiance of the morning after a dark and 
tempestuous night. Confidence would be restored throughout 
every department of social life; jealousy, suspicion, and dis- 
trust would no longer rankle in the human breast; and un- 
feigned affection, fidelity, and friendship, would unite the 
whole brotherhood of mankind. With what a beautiful sim- 
plicity, and with what smoothness and harmony would the 
world of trade move onward in all its transactions ! How many 
cares and anxieties would vanish ! how many perplexities 
would cease ! and how many ruinous litigations would be 
prevented ? For the violation of truth may be considered as 
the chief cause of all those disputes respecting property, which 
have plunged so many families into suspense and wretched- 
ness. The tribunals of justice would he purified from every 
species of sophistry and deceit; and the promises of kings, 
and the leagues of nations, would be held sacred and invio- 
late. Science would rapidly advance towards perfection*; for, 
as all its principles and doctrines are founded upon facts, when 
truth is universally held inviolable, the facts on which it is built 
Will always be fairly represented. Every fact asserted by 



228 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



V03 y agers and travellers, in relation to the physical or the 
moral world, and every detail of experiments made by the 
chemist and the philosopher, would form a sure ground-work 
for the developement of truth, and the detection of error; 
without the least suspicion arising in the mind respecting the 
veracity of the persons on whose testimony we rely. For 
want of this confidence the mind has been perplexed and dis 
traded by the jarring statements of travellers, naturalists, and 
historians; false theories have been framed; systems have 
been reared on the baseless fabric of a vision ; the foundations 
of science have been shaken; its utility called in question, 
and its most sublime discoveries overlooked and disregarded. 

In fine, the clouds which now obscure many of the sublime 
objects of religion, and the realities of a future world, would 
be (i impelled, were falsehood unknown, and truth beheld in its 
native light; and religion, purified from every mixture of error 
and delusion, would appear arrayed in its own heavenly radi- 
ance, and attract the love and the admiration of men. When 
exhibited in its native grandeur and simplicity, all doubts re- 
specting its divine origin would soon evanish from the mind — 
the beauty and sublimity of its doctrines would be recognized 
as worthy of its Author; and all its moral requisitions would 
beperccived to be 44 holy, just, and good," and calculated to 
promote the order, and the everlasting happiness of the intel- 
ligent universe. Divine truth irradiating every mind, and 
accompanied with the emanations of heavenly love, would 
dispel the gloom which now hangs over many sincere and 
pious minds; would unite man to man, and man to God; and 
the inhabitants of this world, freed from every doubt, error, 
and perplexity, would move forward in harmony and peace, 
to join " the innumerable company of angels, and the general 
assembly of the spirits of just men made perfect, whose names 
are written in heaven." 

THE TENTH COMMANDMENT. 

" Thou slialt not covet thy neighbour's house, thou shalt not 
covet thy neighbour's wife, nor his n an-servant, nor his 
maid-servant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is 
thy neighbour s." 

Every precept of the law to which I have hitherto adverted, 
has a reference not only to the external conduct of moral 
agents, but also to the internal triotives or principles from 
which that conduct proceeds. This is evident from the ccn* 



TENDENCY OF COVETOUSNESS. 



229 



elderations already stated, and from the whole tenor of Divine 
Revelation ;— and it is in unison with reason, and with the 
common sense of mankind, that the merit or demerit of any 
action is to be estimated, according to the intention of the 
actor, and the disposition from which it flows. That no doubt 
may remain on this point, the Supreme Legislator closes the 
decalogue with a command, which has a reference solely to 
the desires and dispositions of the mind : " Thou shalt not 
covet." Covetousness consists in an inordinate desire of 
earthly objects and enjoyments. This desire, when uniform- 
ly indulged, leads to a breach of almost every other precept 
of the Divine law ; and is the source of more than one-half of 
all the evils which afflict the human race. It leads to a breach 
of the eighth command, by exciting either to fraudulent dealings, 
or to direct acts of theft and robbery. — It leads to a breach of 
the ninth command, by cherishing the principle of falsehood 
which is implied in every fraudulent transaction. — It leads to 
a violation of the sixth command, by engendering a spirit of 
revenge against those who stand in the way of its gratification ; 
and by exciting the covetous man to the commission of mur- 
der, in order to accomplish his avaricious desires. — It also leads 
to a violation of the seventh command ; for, when one "covets 
his neighbour's wife," the next step is to endeavour to withdraw 
her affection from her husband, and to plunge a family into 
misery and distress. — It also leads to a violation of the fifth 
precept of the law, not only as it steels the heart against those 
kindly filial affections which children ought to exercise to- 
wards their parents, but as it excites them to withhold from 
their parents, when in old age and distress, those external com- 
forts which are requisite to their happiness, and which it is 
the duty of affectionate children to provide. And, when cove- 
tousness has thus led to the breach of every other precept of 
the second table of the law, it follows, that all the precepts of 
the first table are also virtually violated. For all the com- 
mandments of the first table are briefly summed up in this 
comprehensive precept, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God 
with all thy heart :" but it is obviously impossible, nay, it 
would be a contradiction in terms, to suppose, that supreme 
love to the Creator can reside in the same breast in which an 
inordinate desire of worldly enjoyments reigns uncontrolled, 
and in which love to man has no existence. So that cove- 
tousness may be considered as the great barrier which sepa- 
rates between man and his Maker, and also as the polluted 
fountain from whence flow all the moral abominations and th* 
miseries of mankind. 

20 



230 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 



The more obvious and direct manifestation of this principle 
Is generally distinguished by the name of Avarice, or an inor 
dinate desire of riches. And what a countless host of evils 
has flowed from this unhallowed passion, both in relation to 
individuals, to families, to nations, and to the world at large! 
In relation to the avaricious man himself, could we trace^all 
the eager desires, anxieties, perplexities, and cares, which 
harass his soul ; the fraudulent schemes he is obliged to 
contrive, in order to accomplish his object ; the miserable 
shifts to which he is reduced, in order to keep up the appear- 
ance of common honesty ; the mass of contradictions, and 
the medley of falsehoods, to which he is always obliged to 
have recourse; the numerous disappointments to which his 
eager pursuit of wealth continually exposes him, and by which 
his soul is pierced as with so many daggers — we should be- 
hold a wretched being, the prey of restless and contending 
passions, with a mind full of falsehoods, deceitful schemes, 
and grovelling affections, like a cagefull of every unclean and 
hateful bird, — a mind incapable of any rational enjoyment in 
this life, and entirely incapacitated for relishing the nobler 
enjoyments of the life to come. Such a man is not only mis- 
erable himself, but becomes a moral nuisance to the neigh- 
bourhood around him ; stinting his own family of its necessa- 
ry comforts ; oppressing the widow and the fatherless ; grasp- 
ing with insatiable fangs every house, teuement, and patch of 
land within his reach ; hurrying poor unfortunate debtors to 
jail; setting adrift the poor and needy from their long-accus- 
tomed dwellings ; and presenting to the young and thoughtless 
a picture, which is too frequently copied, of an immortal mind 
immersed in the mire of the most degrading passions, and 
worshipping and serving the creature more than the Creator, 
who is blessed for ever. 

In relation to large communities and nations, this grovelling 
passion has produced, on an extensive scale, the most mis- 
chievous and destructive effects. It has plundered palaces, 
churches, seats of learning, and repositories of art ; it has pol- 
luted the courts of judicature, and the tribunals of justice ; it 
has corrupted magistrates, judges, and legislators; and has 
transformed many even of the ministers of religion, into court- 
ly sycophants, and hunters after places and pensions. It has 
ground whole nations to poverty, under the load of taxation ; 
it has levelled spacious cities with the dust ; turned fruitful 
fields into a wilderness; spread misery over whole empires: 
drenched the earth with human gore ; and waded through 
fields of blood in order to satiate its ungovernable desires. 



EFFECTS OF AVARICE. 



231 



What has led to most of the wars which have desolated the 
earth, in every age, but the insatiable cravings of this restless 
find grovelling passion? It was the cursed love of gold that 
excited the Spaniards to ravage the territories of Mexico and 
Peru, to violate every principle of justice and humanity, to 
massacre, and to perpetrate the most horrid cruelties on their 
unoffending inhabitants. It is the same principle, blended 
with the lust of power, which still actuates the infatuated rul- 
ers of that unhappy nation, in their vain attempts to overthrow 
the independence of their former colonies. The same princi- 
ple commenced, and still carries on, that abominable traffic, 
the slave trade,— & traffic which has entailed misery on mil« 
lions of the sons of Africa ; which has excited wars, and feuds, 
and massacres, among her numerous tribes; which has for 
ever separated from each other brothers and sisters, parents 
and children ; which has suffocated thousands of human be- 
ings in the cells of a floating dungeon, and plunged ten thou- 
sands into a watery grave ; — a traffic which is a disgrace to 
the human species; which has transformed civilized men into 
infernal fiends; which has trampled on every principle of jus- 
tice ; which has defaced the image of God in man, and extin- 
guished every spark of humanity from the minds of the fero- 
cious banditti which avarice has employed for accomplishing 
her nefarious designs.* 

Ambition, or, an inordinate desire of power, superiority, 
and distinction, is another modification of this malignant prin- 
ciple. This passion is manifested, in a greater or less de* 
gree, by men of all ranks and characters, and in every situa- 
tion in life. It is displayed in the school-room by the boy who 
is always eager to stand foremost in his class ; in the ball' 
room, by the lady who is proud of her beauty, and of her 
splendid attire ; in the corporation-hall, by the citizen who 
struts with an air of conscious dignity, and is ever and anon 

* That this accursed traffic is still carried on, with unabated vigour, 
by the civilized powers of Europe, appears from the following statement: 
— 44 The boats of a British Frigate, the Maidstone, boarded, in eleven 
days of June, 1824, no less than ten French vessels, at a single spot upon 
the coast of Africa ; the measurement of which vessels was between 
1400 and 1600 tons, while they were destined for the incarceration — 
we might say, the living burial— of 3000 human beings I" The report 
to Government says — " The schooner, La Louisa, Capt. Armand, arri- 
ved at Guadaloupe, during the first days of April, 1824, with a cargo of 
200 negroes, the remainder of a complement of 375, which the vessel had 
onboard. The vessel not being large enough to accommodate so great 
a number of men, the overplus were consigned alive to the waves by tfu 
Captain /" 



232 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



aiming at pompous harangues ; on the bench, by the haughty 
and overbearing Judge ; in the church, by those rulers who, 
like Diotrephes, " Love to have the pre-eminence in the 
pulpit, by the preacher whose main object it is to excite the 
admiration and applause of a surrounding audience ; in the 
streets, by the pompous airs of the proud dame, the coxcomb, 
and the dashing squire ; in the village, by him who has a better 
house, and a longer purse, than his neighbours ; in the ham- 
let, by the peasant who can lift the heaviest stone, or fight 
and wrestle with the greatest strength or agility ; and in the 
city, by the nobleman who endeavours to rival all his compeers 
in the magnificence of his mansion, and the splendour of his 
equipage ; among the learned, by their eager desire to spread 
their name to the world, and to extend their fame to succeeding 
generations ; and among all classes who assume airs of impor- 
tance, on account of the antiquity of their families, their wealth, 
their exploits of heroism, and their patrimonial possessions. 

But it is chiefly on the great theatre of the world, that ambi- 
tion has displayed its most dreadful energies, and its most 
overwhelming devastations. In order to gain possession of a 
throne, it has thrown whole nations into a state of convulsion 
and alarm. The road to political power and pre-eminence, 
has been prepared by the overflow of truth and justice, by fo- 
menting feuds and contentions, by bribery, murder, and assas- 
sinations, by sanguinary battles, by the plunder of whole 
provinces, the desolation of cities and villages, and by the 
sighs, the groans, and lamentations of unnumbered widows 
and orphans. In order to raise a silly mortal to despotic 
power on the throne of Spain, how many human victims have 
been sacrificed at the altar of ambition ! how many families 
have been rent asunder, and plunged into irremediable ruin! 
and how many illustrious patriots have been immured in dun- 
geons, and have expired under the axe of the executioner ! At 
the present moment, the fertile vales of Mexico, the mountains 
and plains of South America, the forests of the Burmese, and 
the shores of Turkey and of Greece, are every where covered 
with the ravages of this fell destroyer, whose path is always 
marked with desolation and bloodshed. To recount all the 
evils which ambition has produced over this vast globe, would 
be to write a history of the struggles and contests of nations, 
and of the sorrows and sufferings of mankind. So insatiable 
is this ungovernable passion, that the whole earth appears a 
field too small for its malignant operations. Alexander the 
Great, after having conquered the greater part of the known 
world, wept, because he had not another world to conquer. 



EFFECTS OF AMBITION. 



233 



Were there no physical impediments to obstruct the course of 
this detestable passion, it would ravage, not only the globe on 
which we dwell, but the whole of the planetary worlds ; it 
would range from system to system, carrying ruin and devas- 
tation in its train, till the material universe was involved in 
misery and desolation ; and it would attempt to subvert even 
the foundations of the throne of the Eternal. 

Such are some of the dismal and destructive effects of 
covetous lies s, when prosecuting the paths of avarice and am- 
bition : and when we consider that it is uniformly accompanied 
in its progress, with pride, envy, discontentment, and restless 
desires, — it is easy to perceive, that, were it left to reign with- 
out control over the human mind, it would soon desolate every 
region of the earth, and produce all the destructive effects 
which, as we have already shown, would flow from a univer- 
sal violation of the other precepts of God's law\ 

On the other hand, Contentment, — the duty implied in this 
command, would draw along with it an unnumbered train of 
blessings, and would restore tranquillity and repose to our 
distracted world. To be contented under the allotments of 
the providence of God. is one of the first and fundamental 
duties of every rational creature. By contentment and resig- 
nation to the divine disposal, we recognize God as the Supreme 
Governor of the universe; as directed by infinite wisdom, in 
the distribution of his bounty among the children of men ; as 
proceeding on the basis of eternal and immutable justice, in all 
his providential arrangements ; and as actuated by a principle 
of unbounded benevolence, which has a regard to the ultimate 
happiness of his creatures. Under the government of such a 
Being, we have abundant reason, not only to be contented 
and resigned, but to be glad and to rejoice. "The Lord 
reigneth, let the earth be glad, let the multitude of the isles 
thereof rejoice." However scanty may be the portion of 
earthly good measured out to us at present, and however per- 
plexing and mysterious the external circumstances in which 
we may now be involved, we may rest assured, that, under the 
government of unerring wisdom, rectitude, and benevolence, 
all such dispensations shall ultimately be found to have been, 
not only consistent with justice, but conducive to our present 
and everlasting interests. Were such sentiments and affections 
to pervade the minds of all human beings, what a host of malig- 
nant passions would be chased away from the hearts and from 
the habitations of men ? Restless cares, and boundless and unsa- 
tisfied desires, which constitute the source and the essence of 
misery, would no longer agitate and torment the human mind* 

20* 



234 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION, 



Voluptuousness would no longer riot at the table of luxury on 
dainties, wrung from the sweat of thousands ; — nor avarice 
glut its insatiable desires with the spoils of the widow and the 
orphan ; — nor ambition ride in triumph over the miseries of a 
suffering world. Every one, submissive to the allotments of 
his Creator, and grateful for that portion of his bounty which 
he has been pleased to bestow, would view the wealth and 
enjoyments of his neighbour with a kind and benignant eye, 
and rejoice in the prosperity of all around him. Benevolence 
and peace would diffuse their benign influence over the na- 
tions, and mankind, delivered from the fear of every thing 
that might " hurt or destroy," would march forward in 
harmony and affection, to that happier world where every 
wish will be crowned, and every holy desire satisfied in God 
" their exceeding great reward." 

Thus it appears, that, on the observance of this law, which 
closes the Decalogue, and which has a reference to a single 
affection of the mind — the order and happiness of the intelli- 
gent system almost entirely depends. Let the flood-gates of 
Oovetousness be burst open, and let it flow in every direction 
without control, — in a short period the world is desolated, and 
overwhelmed with a deluge of miseries. Let the current of 
every passion and desire be restrained within its legitimate 
boundary, and let contentment take up its residence in every 
heart, and this deluge will soon be dried up, and a new world 
will appear, arrayed in all the loveliness, and verdure, and 
beauty of Eden. May Jehovah hasten it in his time I 

Thus I have endeavoured, in the preceding sketches, to il- 
lustrate the reasonableness of those laws which God has pro- 
mulgated for regulating the moral conduct of the intelligent 
creation. If the propriety of these illustrations be admitted, 
they may be considered as a commentary on the words of the 
Apostle Paul : " The law is holy, and the commandment is 
holy and just and good" In like manner it might have been 
shown, that all the Apostolic injunctions, and other precepts 
recorded in the volume of inspiration, are accordant with the 
dictates of reason, and with the relations of moral agents ; fop 
they are all so many subordinate ramifications of the princi 
pies and laws, which I have already illustrated. 



GENERAL CONCLUSIONS. 



235 



General Conclusions and Remarks, founded on the preceding 

illustrations. 

I shall now conclude this chapter with the statement of a 
few remarks in relation to the moral law, founded on the illus- 
trations which have been given in the preceding pages ; which 
may be considered as so many inferences deduced from the 
general subject which has now occupied our attention. 

I. In the first place, One obvious conclusion from the pre- 
ceding illustrations is, That the laws of God are not the com- 
mands of an arbitrary Sovereign, but are founded on the na- 
ture of things, and on the relations which exist in the in- 
telligent system. Many Divines, especially those of the su- 
pralapsarian school, have been disposed to ascribe every regu- 
lation of the Deity, to the Divine Sovereignty. I have been 
told that, in one of the Latin treatises of Mr. Samuel Ruther- 
ford, Professor of Divinity, in St. Andrews, there is a senti- 
ment to the following purpose : "That such is the absolute 
sovereignty of God, that had it so pleased him, he might have 
made every precept of the moral law given to man exactly the 
reverse of what we now find it." A sentiment more di- 
rectly repugnant to the scriptural character of God, and to 
every view we can take of the divine attributes, it is scarcely 
possible for the human mind to entertain ; and it shows us the 
dangerous consequences to which we are exposed, when we 
attempt to push certain theological dogmas to an extreme. If 
it were possible to suppose the Deity capable of such an act, 
it would overturn all the grounds on which we are led to con- 
template him as glorious, amiable, and adorable. At some fu- 
ture period in the revolutions of eternity, his love, his recti- 
tude, and his faithfulness, might be changed into malevolence, 
injustice, and falsehood. If the requisitions of the moral law 
depended solely on the Divine Sovereignty, then there is no 
inherent excellence in virtue ; and theft, falsehood, murder, 
idolatry, profanity, cruelty, wars, devastations, and the ma- 
levolence of infernal demons, might become equally amiable 
and excellent as truth, justice, benevolence, and the songs and 
adorations of angels ; provided the Deity willed the change to 
take place. But this is impossible; and it is evident, I trust, 
from the preceding illustrations, that, were moral laws, di- 
rectly opposite to those contained in the scriptural code, to be 
prescribed to men, or to any other class of moral agents, not 
only would misery reign uncontrolled through the universe, 
but, in a short time, the operation of such laws would annihi- 
late the whole intelligent creation. 



236 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



It is evident, then, that the moral law is not fo anded on the 
will of God, but on the relations of intelligent beings, and on 
its own intrinsic excellence : or, in other words, on its ten- 
dency to produce happiness throughout the intelligent system. 
This idea nearly coincides with that of some of our modern 
Moralists, who maintain "that virtue is founded on utility," — 
if, by utility, is meant, a tendency to promote happiness. But 
it by no means follows, from this position, as some moralists 
have concluded, that utility is the guide, or the rule by which 
we are to be directed in our moral conduct. This may be 
considered as the rule which directs the conduct of the Divine 
Being, whose eye takes in the whole system of creation, 
whose knowledge extends from eternity past, to eternity 
to come, and who perceives, at one glance, the remotes* 
consequences of every action. But it cannot be a rule fo* 
subordinate intelligences, and especially for man, who 
stands near the lowest degree of the scale of intellectual 
existence. From the limited range of view to which he is 
confined, he cannot trace the remote consequences of any par 
ticular action, the bearings it may have on unnumbered indi- 
viduals, and the relation in which it may stand to the concerns 
of the eternal world. An action which, to our limited view, 
may appear either beneficial or indifferent, may involve a prin- 
ciple which, if traced to its remotest consequences, would lead 
to the destruction of the moral universe. It might appear, at 
first view, on the whole, beneficial to society, that an old un- 
feeling miser should be gently suffocated, and his treasures ap- 
plied for the purpose of rearing asylums for the aged poor, 
and seminaries of instruction for the young. But the prin- 
ciple which would sanction such an action, if generally 
acted upon, would lead to universal plunder, robbery, and 
bloodshed, To tell a lie to a child, in order to induce it to 
take a nauseous medicine which is essential to its recovery 
from disease, may appear, in such a case, to have a benevo- 
lent tendency ; but we have already shown, that were such a 
principle universally admitted, it would introduce anarchy and 
misery through the universe, and would ultimately annihilate 
the intelligent creation. Man, in his present state, can be di- 
rected only by positive laws proceeding from the Almighty, 
whose comprehensive mind alone can trace all their conse- 
quences to the remotest corners of the universe, and through 
all the ages of eternity. These laws are contained in the 
Scriptures — a comprehensive summary of which has been the 
subject of the preceding illustrations. And we know, in point 
of fact, that in every country where these laws are either un* 



GENERAL CONCLUSIONS. 



237 



known, or not recognised, there is no fixed standard of morals ; 
and vice, in its various ramifications, almost universally pre- 
vails. 

From what has been now stated we may infer— that a full 
and unreserved obedience to the Divine law is a most reasona- 
ble requisition. Men are too frequently disposed to view the 
commands of God as the dictates of an arbitrary Sovereign. 
There is a secret thought that occasionally lodges in the heart 
of every human being, that the law of God is too extensive 
and rigorous in its demands, accompanied with a secret wish, 
that the severity of its requisitions could be a little modified 
or relaxed. Everyman is subject to some " besetting sin," 
and he is apt to say within himself — "If I were allowed but a 
little license with regard to one precept of the law, I would 
endeavour to do what I could to comply with the requisitions 
of the rest." But, it would be inconsistent botli with the 5e- 
nevolence of the Deity, and with the happiness of his moral 
creation, either to modify or to relax any one requirement of 
his law; for it is a perfect law, from which nothing can be 
taken without impairing its excellence and utility. Were he 
to do so, it would be in effect, to shut up the path to happi- 
ness, and to open the flood-gates of misery upon the universe. 
Although it is impossible for man in his present degraded con- 
dition, to yield a perfect obedience to this law, yet nothing short 
of perfect obedience ought to be his aim. For in as far as we 
fall short of it, in so far do we fall short of happiness; and 
consequently, till that period arrive when our obedience shall 
reach the summit of perfection, our happiness must remain 
incomplete, and a certain portion of misery must be expected 
to mingle itself with ail our enjoyments. 

II. There is so intimate a connexion between all the parts 
of th e Divine law, that the habitual violation o f any one precept 
necessarily includes the violation of the greater part, if not the 
whole of the other precepts. This is evident from the general 
tenor of the preceding illustrations. It has been shown that 
a breach of the first commandment includes pride, falsehood, 
blasphemy, ingratitude, and hatred of moral excellence ; and 
that it leads to injustice, cruelty, murder, obscenity, and the 
most revolting abominations. A breach of the fifth involves 
a principle which would sap the foundations of all government 
and moral order, and transform society into a rabble of law- 
less banditti. The violation of the eighth is connected with 
falsehood, treachery, and covetousness, and leads to oppres- 
sion, robbery, plunder, murders, and the devastation of empires ; 
and the violation of the tenth, though consisting only in the 



238 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



indulgence af an irregular desire, is the origin of almost every 
other species of moral turpitude, in relation either to God or 
to man. In like manner it might be shown, that the strict 
and regular observance of any one precept is necessarily 
connected with a regard for all the other requirements of God's 
law. 

III. It appears, from the preceding illustrations, that a uni- 
versal violation of any one of the six precepts of the second 
table of the law, would lead to the entire destruction of the 
human race. In the case of the sixth commandment being 
supposed to be reversed, or universally violated, this effect 
would be most rapidly produced ; but the destruction and 
complete extirpation of human beings from the earth would be 
as certainly effected, in the course of two or three generations, 
by the universal violation of any one of the other five precepts. 
Some of the circumstances which would necessarily produce 
this effect, are alluded to, in the preceding illustration of these 
precepts. And as the first principle of the moral law, love to 
God, is the foundation of the precepts contained in the second 
table, it is obvious, that the same effect would ultimately fol- 
low from a universal violation of the first four precopta of the 
Decalogue. 

IV. It follows from what has hitherto been stated, That the 
moral law has never yet been universally violated, nor has 
any one of its precepts been completely reversed in the con- 
duct of the inhabitants of our globe. Every individual, of all 
the millions of mankind that have existed since the fall of 
Adam, has, indeed, in one shape or another, broken every 
one of the commandments of God ; but such breaches have 
not been constant and uniform, and running through every 
action he performed. Falsehood has always been mingled 
with a portion of truth, theft with honesty, cruelty with clem- 
ency and mercy, anarchy with subordination, and licentious- 
ness with chastity and purity. It is owing to this partial obe- 
dience to the dictates of the law of nature, impressed upon every 
human heart, that the world of mankind has hitherto been pre- 
served in existence. The partial violation, however, of the di- 
vine law, which has characterized the actions of mankind, in all 
ages, has been the source of all the calamities, miseries, and 
moral abominations, under which the earth has groaned from 
generation to generation ; and, in proportion to the extent of 
this violation, will be the extent of wretchedness and misery 
entailed on the human race. — That a universal violation of 
God's law has never yet taken place in any region of the earth, 
is not owing so much to any want of energy, or of malignity 



GENERAL CONCLUSIONS. 



239 



tn the principle of disobedience which is seated in the hearts of 
men, as to the restraining influence of the moral Governor of 
the world, and to the physical impediments which he has placed 
to prevent the diabolical passions of men from raging without 
control. Whether it be possible for any class of intelligent 
organized beings to subsist for any length of time, under a 
complete violation of the moral law, it is not for us positively 
to determine ; but it is evident to a demonstration, that in the 
present physical condition of the human race, such a violation 
would unhinge the whole fabric of society, and, in a short 
time, exterminate the race of Adam from the earth. 

V. The greater part of the precepts of the Decalogue is 
binding upon superior intelligences, and upon the inhabitants 
of all worlds, as well as upon man. For any thing we know 
to the contrary, there may be worlds in different regions of 
the universe, and even within the bounds of our planetary 
system, where their inhabitants are placed in circumstances 
similar to those in which man was placed in his paradisiacal 
state; and, consequently, where the precepts which compose 
their moral code may be exactly the same as ours. But, it is 
highly probable that, in general, the inhabitants of the various 
globes, which float in the immensity of space, differ as much 
in their moral circumstances and relations, as the globes them- 
selves do in their size, their physical constitution, and their 
natural scenery. I have already shown, (p. 154, &c.) that there 
are seven precepts of our moral law which are common to the 
inhabitants of all worlds, namely, the first, second, third, fourth, 
(see p. 233,) the sixth, the ninth, and Vne tenth. And, if there 
be no portion of the intelligent system in which subordination, 
in a greater or less degree, does not exist, then, the fifth pre- 
cept of our code must also be a law common to all intelligen- 
ces. It was formerly stated, (p. 250,) that the seventh precept 
is, in all probability, a law peculiar to the inhabitants of the 
earth, during the present economy oi Providence ; and, per- 
haps it is the only one which is not applicable to the other in- 
habitants of the universe. So that the moral laws given to 
man may be considered as substantially the same with those 
which govern all the other parts of the universal system. 

VI. From the preceding illustrations, we may infer, the ex- 
cellency and the divine origin of the Christian Revelation. 
The Scriptures contain the most impressive evidence of their 
heavenly original in their own bosom. The wide range of 
objects they embrace, extending from the commencement of 
our earthly system, through all the revolutions of time, to the 
period of its termination ; and from the countless ages of ete/ 



240 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



nity past, to the more grand and diversified scenes of eternity 
to come — the plan of Providence which they unfold, and the 
views they exhibit of the moral principles of the Divine govern- 
ment, and of the subordination of all events to the accomplish- 
ment of a glorious design — the character and attributes of the 
Creator, which they illustrate by the most impressive delinea- 
tions, and the most lofty and sublime descriptions — the views 
they exhibit of the existence, the powers, the capacities, the 
virtues, and the employments of superior orders of intellectu- 
al beings — the demonstrations they afford of the dignified sta- 
tion, and of the high destination of man — and the sublime and 
awful scenes they unfold, when the earth "shall melt like wax 
at the presence of the Lord," when the throne of judgment 
shall be set, and the unnumbered millions of the race of Adam 
shall be assembled before the Judge of all — infinitely surpass 
every thing which the unassisted imaginations of men could 
have devised, and every tiling which had ever been attempted 
by the greatest sages of antiquity, either in prose or in rhyme; 
and, consequently prove, to a moral demonstration, that a Power 
and Intelligence, superior to the human mind, must have sug- 
gested such sublime conceptions, and such astonishing ideas ; 
since there are no prototypes of such objects to be found with- 
in the ordinary range of the human mind. 

But the subject to which we have been hitherto adverting, 
when properly considered, suggests an evidence of the truth 
and divinity of the Scriptures, as striking, and, perhaps, more 
convincing than any other. They unfold to us the moral laws 
of the universe — they present to us a summary of moral prin- 
ciples and precepts, which is applicable to all the tribes and 
generations of men, to all the orders of angelic beings, and to 
all the moral intelligences that people the amplitudes of crea- 
tion — to man, during his temporary abode on earth, and to 
man, when placed in heaven, so long as eternity endures — 
precepts, which, if universally observed, would banish misery 
from the creation, and distribute happiness, without alloy, 
among all the intellectual beings that exist throughout the 
empire of God. Can these things be affirmed of any other 
system of religion or of morals that was ever published to the 
world ? The Greek and Roman moralists, after all their la- 
boured investigations, could never arrive at any certain deter- 
mination with regard to the nature of happiness, and the means 
of attaining it. We are told by Varro, one of the most learned 
writers cf the Augustan age, that, the heathen philosophers 
had embraced more than two hundred and eighty different 
opinions respecting the supreme good. Some of them taught 



GENERAL CONCLUSIONS. 



241 



that it consisted in sensual enjoyments, and in freedom from 
pain ; others considered it as placed in study and contemp a- 
tion, in military glory, in riches, honours, wealth, and fame. 
Some of their moral maxims, separately considered, were ra- 
tional and excellent ; but they were connected with other 
maxims, which completely neutralized all their virtue, and 
their tendency to produce happiness. Pride, falsehood, injus- 
tice, impurity, revenge, and an unfeeling apathy to the distress- 
es of their fellow-creatures, were considered as quite consist- 
ent with their system of morality ; and such malignant prin- 
ciples and practices were blended with their most virtuous 
actions. But we have already shown, that the uniform ope- 
ration of such principles would necessarily lead to the destruc- 
tion of all happiness, and to the overthrow of all order 
throughout the intelligent creation. 

Now, can it be supposed, for a moment, that a Jew, who had 
spent forty years of his life as a shepherd in a desert country, 
who lived in a rude age of the world, who had never studied 
a system of ethics, and whose mind was altogether incapable 
of tracing the various relations which subsist between intelli- 
gent beings and their Creator, could have investigated those 
moral principles and laws which form the foundation of the 
moral universe, and the basis of the divine government in all 
worlds ; unless they had been communicated immediately by 
Him, who, at one glance, beholds all the physical and moral 
relations which exist throughout creation, and who can trace 
the bearings and the eternal consequences of every moral law? 
Or can we suppose, that, throughout the whole period of the 
Jewish economy, and during the first ages of the Christian 
dispensation, a multitude of writers should appear, many of 
them unknown to each other, all of whom should uniformly 
recognise those laws in their minutest bearings and ramiflca 
tions, unless their minds had been enlightened and directed 
by the same powerful and unerring Intelligence? If these laws 
are distinguished by their extreme simplicity, they are the 
more characteristic of their divine Author, who, from the gene- 
ral operation of a few simple principles and laws in the system 
of nature, produces all the variety we perceive in the material 
world, and all the harmonies, the contrasts, the beauties, and 
the sublimities of the universe. If it be asked why these 
laws, which are so extremely simple and comprehensive, were 
not discovered nor recognised by the ancient sages ? it might 
be answered, by asking why the laws of gravitation, which are 
also simple and comprehensive, were not discovered, till New- 
ton arose to investigate the agencies of nature, and to pour 

21 



242 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



a flood of light on the system of the universe ? But the true 
reasons are — the unassisted powers of the human mind were 
inadequate to the task of surveying all the moral relations 
which subsist throughout the intelligent system, and of tracing 
those moral principles which would apply to the whole assem- 
blage of moral agents, so as to secure the happiness of each 
individual, and of the system as one great whole — that the 
laws of God were almost directly contrary to the leading max- 
ims of morality which prevailed in the world — and that they 
struck at the root of all those principles of pride, ambition, re* 
venge, and impurity, which almost universally directed tfc> 
conduct of individuals and of nations. 

If, then, we find in a book which professes to be a revela- 
tion from heaven, a system of moral laws which can clearly be 
shown to be the basis of the moral order of the universe, and 
which are calculated to secure the eternal happiness of all in- 
tellectual beings — it forms a strong presumptive proof, if not 
an unanswerable argument, that the contents of that book are 
of a celestial origin, and were dictated by Him who gave birth 
to the whole system of created beings. 

VII. From this subject we may learn the absurdity and per- 
nicious tendency of Antinomianism. Of all the absurdities 
and abominations which have assumed the name of Religion, 
I know none more pernicious and atheistical in its tendency, 
than the sentiment which is tenaciously maintained by modern 
Antinomians, " That Christians are set free from the law of 
God as a rule of conduct." That in the nineteenth century 
of the Christian era, amidst the rapid progress of physical and 
moral science, under the mask of a Christian profession, and 
with the moral precepts and injunctions of the prophets of 
Jesus Christ, and of his apostles, lying open before them, a 
set of men, calling themselves rational beings, should arise to 
maintain, that there is such a thing as " imputed sanctification," 
that the moral law is not obligatory upon Christians, and that 
" whoever talks of progressive sanctifi cation is guilty of high 
treason against the majesty of heaven''* — is a moral phenome- 
non truly humbling and astonishing ; and affords an addition- 
al proof, to the many other evidences which lie before us, of 
the folly and perversity of the human mind, and of its readi- 
ness to embrace the most wild and glaring absurdities ! If the 
leading train of sentiment which has been prosecuted in the 
preceding illustrations be admitted, there appears nothing else 
requisite in order to show the gross absurdity and the deadly 

* See Cottle's u Strictures on the Plvmouth Antmomians." 



GENERAL CONCLUSIONS. 



243 



malignity of the Antinomian system. If any system of religion 
be founded on the cancellation of every moral tie which con- 
nects man with man, and man with God — if its fundamental 
and distinguishing principles, when carried out to their legiti- 
mate consequences, would lead men to hate their Creator and 
to hate one another — if it can be shown, that the operation of 
such principles constitutes the chief ingredient of the misery 
which arises from "the worm that never dies, and the fire 
which is never quenched ;" and that, if universally acted upon, 
they would overthrow all order in the intelligent system, and 
banish every species of happiness from the universe — it ne- 
cessarily follows, that such a system cannot be the religion 
prescribed by the All-wise and benevolent Creator, nor any 
part of that revelation which proclaims "peace on earth and 
good-will among men," and which enjoins us to "love the 
Lord our God with all our hearts, and our neighbour as our- 
selves." 

The Antinomian, in following out his own principles, if no 
human laws or prudential considerations were to deter him, 
might run to every excess of profligacy and debauchery — 
might indulge in impiety, falsehood, and profanity — might com- 
mit theft, robbery, adultery, fraud, cruelty, injustice, and even 
murder, without considering himself as acting contrary to the 
spirit of his religious system. On his principles, the idea of 
heaven, or a state of perfect happiness, is a physical and moral 
impossibility ; and the idea oihell a mere bugbear to frighten 
children and fools. For, wherever the moral law is generally 
observed, there can be no great portion of misery experienced 
under the arrangements of a benevolent Creator ; and if this 
law be set aside, or its observance considered as a matter of 
indifference, the foundation of all the happiness of saints and 
angels is necessarily subverted. A heaven without love per- 
vading the breasts of all its inhabitants, would be a contradic- 
tion in terms ; but love, as we have already seen, is the foun- 
dation of every moral precept. 

I trust the moral conduct of the deluded mortals who have 
embraced this system is more respectable than that to which 
their principles naturally lead ; — but the consideration, that 
such absurd and dangerous opinions have been deduced from 
the Christian revelation, should act as a powerful stimulus on 
the Christian world, for directing their attention to a more 
minute and comprehensive illustration than has hitherto been 
given, of the 'practical bearings of the Christian system, and 
of the eternal and immutable obligation of the law of God, 
which it is the great end of the gospel of Christ to enforce and 



244 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



demonstrate. For it is lamentable to reflect, how many thou- 
sands of religionists, both in North and in South Britain, even 
in the present day, have their minds tinctured, in a greater or 
less degree, with the poison of Antinomianism, in consequence 
of the general strain of many of the doctrinal sermons they 
are accustomed to hear, and of the injudicious sentiments they 
have imbibed from the writings of the supralapsarian divines 
of the seventeenth century. 

VIII. Faith and repentance, as required in the Gospel, are 
absolutely necessary, in the present condition of man, in order 
to acceptable obedience to the divine law. "Without faith it 
is impossible to please God ; for he that cometh to God must 
believe that he is, and that he is the rewarder of them that dili- 
gently seek him." — Faith, as the term is used in scripture, de- 
notes confidence in the moral character of God, founded on the 
beliel we attach Ho the declarations of his word. It is defined, 
by the Apostle Paul, in the eleventh chapter of the epistle to 
the Hebrews, to be "the confident expectations of things hoped 
for," and " the conviction of things which are not seen."* Faith 
substantiates and realizes those objects which are invisible to the 
eye of sense, and which lie beyond the reach of our present 
comprehension. It recognises the existence and the omni- 
presence of an invisible Being, by whose agency the visible 
operations of nature are conducted; and views him as possessed 
of infinite wisdom, power, benevolence, faithfulness, rectitude, 
and eternal duration. It realizes the scenes of an invisible 
and eternal world — the destruction of the present fabric of 
our globe, the resurrection of the dead, the solemnities of the 
last judgment, the new heavens, and the new earth, the innu- 
merable company of angels, and the grandeur and felicity of 
the heavenly world. These invisible realities it recognises, 
on the testimony of God exhibited in his word ; and without 
a recognition of such objects, religion can have no existence 
in the mind. — In a particular manner, faith recognises the 
declarations of God in relation to the character and the con- 
dition of men as violators of his law, and as exposed to mise- 
ry ; and the exhibition which is made of the way of reconcilia- 
tion, through the mediation of Jesus Christ, who is " set forth 
as a propitiation to declare the righteousness of God in the 
remission of sins." The man in whose heart the principle of 
faith operates, convinced that he is guilty before God, and 
exposed to misery on account of sin, confides in the declara- 
tions of God respecting "the remission of sins through the 



* Doddridge^s translation of Heb* xi. \, 



FAITH AND REPENTANCE. 



245 



redemption that is in Christ Jesus ;" — he confides in the good 
ness, mercy, faithfulness, and power of God, which secure the 
accomplishment of his promises, and the supply of all requi- 
site strength and consolation to support him amidst the dan- 
gers and afflictions of life; he confides in the wisdom and ex- 
cellence of those precepts which are prescribed as the rule of 
his conduct, and which are fitted to guide him to the regions 
of happiness ; — and in the exercise of this confidence, he " adds 
to his faith, fortitude and resolution, knowledge, temperance, 
patience, godliness, brotherly kindness, and charity;" and 
prosecutes with courage this course of obedience, till at length 
"an entrance is abundantly administered to him into the ever- 
lasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ." But, 
without a recognition of such objects, and an unshaken confi- 
dence in the declarations of God respecting them, it is obvi- 
ous, from the nature of things, that we "cannot please God," 
nor yield to him an acceptable and "reasonable service." 

In like manner it might be shown, that repentance is essen- 
tially requisite in order to acceptable obedience. Sin is di« 
rectly opposed to the character of God, and is the greal 
nuisance of the moral universe. While the love of it predomi* 
nates in any mind, it leads to every species of moral turpitude 
and depravity ; and, consequently, completely unfits such a 
mind for yielding a cheerful obedience to the divine law. But 
repentance, which consists in hatred of sin, and sorrow for 
having committed it, naturally fits and prepares the mind for 
the practice of universal holiness. It tends to withdraw the 
soul from the practice of sin, and warns it of the danger of 
turning again to folly. It is the commencement of every 
course of virtuous conduct, and the avenue which ultimately 
leads to solid peace and tranquillity of mind. It is intimately 
connected with humility and self-denial, and is directly op- 
posed to pride, vanity, and self-gratulation. It must, there- 
fore, be indispensably requisite to prepare us for conformity 
to the moral character of God, for universal obedience to his 
law, and for the enjoyment of substantial and never-ending 
felicity. Hence the importance which is attached to the ex- 
ercise of repentance by our Saviour and his Apostles. In 
connexion with faith, it is uniformly represented as the first 
duty of a sinner, and the commencement of the Christian life. 
Repentance was the great duty to which the forerunner of the 
Messiah called the multitudes who flocked to his baptism, and 
on which the Messiah himself expatiated during the period of 
his public ministry. "Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven 
is at hand." "Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.'* 

21* 



246 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



And the apostles, in their instructions to every nation, and to 
every class of men, laid down the following positions as the 
foundation of every moral duty. "Repentance towards God, 
and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ." 

IX. From the preceding illustrations we may learn, that no 
merit, in the sense in which that term is sometimes used, can 
be attached to human actions in the sight of God ; and that 
the salvation, or ultimate happiness of sinners, is the effect of 
the grace or benevolence of God. — That the good works of 
men are meritorious in the sight of God, is a notion, as un- 
philosophical and absurd, as it is impious and unscrjptural. 
They are requisite, and indispensably requisite, as qualifica- 
tions^ or preparations for the enjoyment of felicity, without 
, which the attainment of true happiness either here or hereafter, 
is an absolute impossibility ; but the actions of no created 
being, not even the sublimest services and adorations of the 
angelic hosts, can have the least merit in the eyes of the Crea- 
tor. 46 Thy wickedness may hurt a man as thou art, and thy 
righteousness may profit the son of man ;" but "if thou sin- 
nest, what dost thou against God ; or, if thou be righteous, 
what givest thou him ? and what receiveth he of thine hand ?"* 
"Thy goodness extendeth not unto him," and lie that sinneth 
against him wrongeth his own soul." — What merit can there 
be in the exercise of love, and in the cultivation of benevolent 
affections, when we consider, that these affections are essen- 
tially requisite to our happiness, and that the very exercise of 
them is a privilege conferred by God, and one of the princi- 
pal ingredients of bliss ? What merit can be attached, in the 
presence of the Most High, to the noblest services we can 
perform, when we reflect, that we derived all the corporeal 
and intellectual faculties by which we perform these services, 
and all the means by which they are excited and directed 
from our bountiful Creator ? What merit can there be in obe- 
dience to his law, when disobedience must infallibly lead to 
destruction and misery ? Is it considered as meritorious in a 
traveller, when he is properly directed, furnished with strength 
oi body and mind, and provided with every necessary for his 
journey, — to move forward to the place of his wished-for des- 
tination ? Our benevoleqt affections, and the active services to 
which they lead, may be meritorious in the eyes of our fellow- 
men, in so far as they are the means of contributing to their 
enjoyment ; but in the presence of Him who sits on the throne 
of the universe, dispensing blessings to all his offspring, we 



Job, xxxv. 6, 8. Psalm xvi. 2, &c. 



GOOD WORKS NOT MERITORIOUS. 



247 



shall always have to acknowledge, that "we are unprofitable 
servants." It is probable, that, if the great object of religion 
were represented in its native simplicity, if the nature of sal- 
vation were clearly understood, and if less were said on the 
subject of human merit in sermons, and systems of divinity, 
the idea which T am now combating, would seldom be enter 
tained by any mind possessed of the least share of Christian 
knowledge, or of common sense. 

That the eternal salvation of men, is the effect of the love 
and the grace of God, is also a necessary consequence from 
what has been now stated. For every power, capacity, and 
privilege we possess, was derived from God. " What have 
we that we have not received ?" Even our very existence in 
the world of life, is an act of grace. We exerted no power 
in ushering ourselves into existence : We had no control over 
the events which determined that we should be born in Britain, 
and not in Africa; which determined the particular family 
with which we should be connected ; the education we should 
receive ; the particular objects towards which our minds should 
be directed, and the privileges we should enjoy. And, when we 
arrive at the close of our earthly career, when the spirit is hover- 
ing on the verge of life, and about take its flight from this mortal 
scene, can it direct its course, by its own energies, through the 
world unknown ? can it wing its way over a region it has 
never explored, to its kindred spirits in the mansions of bliss ? 
can it furnish these mansions with the scenes and objects from 
which its happiness is to be derived ? can it re-animate the 
body after it has long mouldered in the dust? can it re-unite 
itself with its long-lost partner ? can it transport the resurrec- 
tion-body, to that distant world where it is destined to spend 
an endless existence? or can it create those scenes of glory 
and magnificence, and those ecstatic joys which will fill it with 
transport while eternity endures ? If it cannot be supposed 
to accomplish such glorious objects by its own inherent pow- 
ers, then, it must be indebted for every entertainment in the 
future world to the unbounded and unmerited love and mercy 
of God. To Him, therefore, who sits upon the throne of the 
heavens, and to the Lamb who was slain and hath redeemed 
us to God by his blood, let all praise, honour, dominion and 
power, be ascribed now and forever. Amen. 



248 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



Having now finished what I proposed in the illustration of 
the principles of love to God and to man, and of the precepts 
of the Decalogue, — in the following chapter, I shall take a 
bird's eye view of the moral state of the world ; and endeavour 
to ascertain, to what extent these principles and laws have 
been recognised and observed by the inhabitants of our 
globe. 



CHAPTER IV. 



A BRIEF SURVEY OF THE MORAL STATE OF THE 
WORLD; 

OR, AN EXAMINATION OF THE GENERAL TRAIN OF HUMAN AC 
TIONS, IN REFERENCE TO ITS CONFORMITY WITH THE PRIN- 
CIPLES AND LAWS NOW ILLUSTRATED. 

The discoveries of modern astronomy have led us infallibly 
to conclude, that the universe consists of an immense number 
of systems and worlds dispersed, at immeasurable distances 
from each other, throughout the regions of infinite space. 
When we take into consideration the Benevolence of the Deity, 
and that the happiness of the intelligent creation is the great 
object which his Wisdom and Omnipotence are employed to 
accomplish— it appears highly probable, that the inhabitants 
of the whole, or at least of the greater part, of those worlds 
whose suns we behold twinkling from afar, are in a state of 
moral perfection, and consequently, in a state of happiness. 
At any rate, it is reasonable to conclude, that the exceptions 
which exist are not numerous. Perhaps this earth is the only 
material world where physical evil exists, where misery pre- 
vails, and where moral order is subverted ; and these dismal 
effects may have been permitted to happen, under the govern- 
ment of God, in order to exhibit to other intelligences, a spe- 
cimen of the terrible and destructive consequences of moral 
evil, as a warning of the danger of infringing, in the least de- 
gree, on those moral principles which form the bond of union 
among the intelligent system. 

Could we trace the series of events which have occurred, 
in any one of those happy worlds, where moral perfection 
prevails, ever since the period when it was replenished with 
inhabitants, and the objects to which their physical and ra- 
tional powers have been directed, we should, doubtless, be 
highly delighted and enraptured with the moral scenery which 
the history of such a world would display. Its annals would 
uniformly record the transactions of benevolence. We should 
hear nothing of the pomp of hostile armies, of the shouts of 
victory, of the exploits of heroes, of the conflagration of cities, 
of the storming of fortifications, of the avarice of merchants 
and courtiers, of the burning of heretics, or of the ambition ol 
princes The train of events, presented to our view, would be 



250 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



directly opposed to every object of this description, and 
to every thing which forms a prominent feature in the his- 
tory of mankind. To beautify and adorn the scenery ofnature 
around them, to extend their views of the operations of the Al- 
mighty, to explore the depths of his wisdom and intelligence, 
to admire the exuberance of his goodness, to celebrate, 
in unison, the praises of the " King Eternal," the Author of all 
their enjoyments, to make progressive advances in moral and 
intellectual attainments, to circulate joy from heart to heart, to 
exert their ingenuity in the invention of instruments by which 
their physical powers may be improved, and the wonders of 
creation more minutely explored ; to widen the range of delight- 
ful contemplation, to expand their views of the Divine perfec- 
tions, and to increase the sum of happiness among all their fel- 
low-intelligences, will doubtless form a part of the employments 
of the inhabitants of a world where moral purity universally 
prevails. One circumstance which may probably diversify the 
annals of such a world, and form so many eras in its history, 
may be, the occasional visits of angelic or other messengers, 
from distant regions of creation, to announce the will of the 
Almighty on particular emergencies, to relate the progress oi 
new creations in other parts of the Divine Empire, and to con- 
vey intelligence respecting the physical aspects, the moral ar- 
rangements, and the history of other worlds, and of other orders 
of intellectual beings. Such visits and occasional intercourses 
with celestial beings, would, undoubtedly, have been more fre- 
quent in our world, had not man rendered himself unqualified 
for such associations, by his grovelling affections, and by the 
moral pollutions with which his character is now stained. 

When we turn our eyes from the transactions of such a world, 
to the world in which we live, how very different a scene is pre- 
sented to the view ! The history of all nations embraces little 
more than 

A RECORD OF THE OPERATIONS OF MALEVOLENCE. 

Every occurrence has been considered as tame and insipid, 
and scarcely worthy of being recorded, unless it has been asso- 
ciated with the confused noise of warriors, the shouts of conque- 
rors, the plunder of provinces, the devastation of empires, the 
groans of mangled victims, the cries of widows and orphans, 
and with garments rolled in blood. When such malevolent 
operations cease for a little, in any part of the world, and the 
tumultuous passions which produced them, subside into a tem- 
porary calm, the historian is presented with a blank in the an- 
nals of the human race ; the short interlude of peace and of 



MORALS OF THE ANTEDILUVIANS. 251 

apparent tranquillity is passed over as unworthy of notice, till 
the restless passions of avarice and ambition be again roused 
into fury, and a new set of desperadoes arise, to carry slaughter 
and desolation through the nations. For, during the short 
temporary periods of repose from the din of war, which the 
world has occasionally enjoyed, the malignant passions, which 
were only smothered, but not extinguished, prevented the ope- 
ration of the benevolent affections; and, of course, no extensive 
plans for the counteraction of evil, and the improvement of 
mankind, worthy of being recorded by the annalist and the his- 
torian, were carried into effect. 

In order to produce a definite impression of the moral state 
of the world, I shall endeavour, in this chapter, to give a rapid 
sketch of the prominent dispositions of mankind, as displayed 
in the general train of human actions — that we may be enabled 
to form a rude estimate of the degree in which the law of God 
has been recognised, and of the extent to which its violation 
has been carried, on the great theatre of the world, and in the 
ordinary transactions of general society. 

I shall, in the first place, take a rapid view of the moral 
state of the world in ancient times, and then take a more par- 
ticular survey of the present state of morals, among savage 
and civilized nations — in the Christian world — and among the 
various ranks and orders of society. 



SECTION I. 

State of morals in the ancient world, 

Man was originally formed after the moral image of his Ma- 
ker. His understanding was quick and vigorous in its percep- 
tions ; his will subject to the divine law, and to the dictates of 
his reason ; his passions serene and uncontaminated with evil ; 
his affections dignified and pure ; his love supremely fixed upon 
his Creator; and his joy iinmingled with those sorrows which 
have so long been the bitter portion of his degenerate race. 
But the primogenitor of the human race did not long continue 
in the holy and dignified station in which he was placed. 
Though he was placed in 44 a garden of delights," surrounded 
with every thing that was delicious to the taste and pleasant 
to the eye, yet he dared to violate a positive command of his 



252 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



Maker, and to stretch forth his impious hand to pluck and to 
taste the fruit of the forbidden tree — a picture and a prelude 
of the conduct of millions of his degraded offspring who de- 
spise the lawful enjoyments which lie within their reach, and 
obstinately rush on forbidden pleasures, which terminate in 
wretchedness and sorrow. The dismal effects of the deprav- 
ed dispositions thus introduced among the human species, 
soon became apparent. Cain, the first-born son of Adam, had 
no sooner reached to the years of maturity, than he gave vent 
to his revengeful passions, and imbrued his hands in his 
brother's blood. And ever since the perpetration of this hor- 
rid and unnatural deed, the earth has been drenched with the 
blood of thousands and of millions of human beings, and the 
stream of corruption has flowed without intermission, and in 
every direction around the globe. 

Of the state of mankind in the ages before the flood, the 
sacred history furnishes us with only a few brief and general 
descriptions. But those descriptions, short and general as 
they are, present to us a most dreadful and revolting picture 
of the pitch of depravity and wickedness to which the human 
race bad arrived. We have the testimony of God himself to 
assure us, that, within 1600 years from the creation of the 
world, 44 the wickedness of man had become great upon the 
earth — that the earth was filled with violence" — yea, that 
"every imagination of the thoughts of man's heart was only 
evil continually," — or, as it may more literally be rendered 
from the Hebrew, 44 the whole imagination, comprehending all 
the purposes and desires of the mind, was only evil from day 
to day." — 44 God looked upon the earth; and behold it was 
corrupt ; for all flesh had corrupted their way upon the 
earth." A more comprehensive summary of the greatness 
and the extent of human wickedness it is scarcely possible to 
conceive. The mind is left to fill up the outline of this horrid 
picture with every thing that is degrading to the human 
character, with every thing that is profligate and abominable 
in manners, with every thing that is base, false, deceitful, li- 
centious and profane, and with every thing that is horrible 
and destructive in war, and ruinous to the interests of human 
happiness. 

The description now quoted, contains the following inti- 
mations : — 1. That, previous to the deluge, wickedness had 
become universal. It was not merely the majority of man- 
kind that had thus given unbounded scope to their licentious 
desires, while smaller societies were to be found in which the 
worship <4ie true God, and the precepts of his law were 



MORALS OF THE ANTEDILUVIANS. 



253 



observed. F 'or " all flesh had corrupted their ways." And, 
at this period the world is reckoned to have been much more 
populous than it has been in any succeeding age, and to have 
contained at least ten billions of inhabitants, or many thou- 
sands of times the amount of its present population. So that 
universal wickedness must have produced misery among hu- 
man beings to an extent of which we can form no adequate 
conception. 2. The description implies, that every invention, 
and every purpose and scheme devised both by individuals and 
by communities, was of a malevolent nature. " The imagina- 
tion of every man's heart was only evil continually." The 
dreadful spectacles of misery and horror which the univer- 
sal prevalence of such principles and practices which then 
existed, must have produced, are beyond the power of human 
imagination either to conceive or to delineate. Some faint 
idea, however, may be formed of some of these spectacles, 
from the descriptions I have already given of the effects 
which would inevitably follow, were the principle of benevo- 
lence to be eradicated from the mind, or were any one of the 
precepts of the divine law to be universally violated — (see Ch. 
II. sect. iv. and Ch.III. throughout.) 3. The effects produced 
by this universal depravity are forcibly expressed in the 
words, " The earth was filled with violence."^ From this 
declaration we are necessarily led to conceive a scene in which 
universal anarchy and disorder, devastation and wretchedness, 
every where prevailed — the strong and powerful forcibly 
seizing upon the wealth and possessions of the weak, violating 
the persons of the female sex, oppressing the poor, the widow, 
and the fatherless, overturning the established order of fami- 
lies and societies, plundering cities, demolishing temples and 
palaces, desolating fields, orchards, and vineyards, setting fir© 
to towns and villages, and carrying bloodshed and devastation 
through every land — a scene in which cruelty, injustice, and 
outrages of every kind, obscenity, revelry, riot, and debauch- 
ery of every description, triumphed over every principle of 
decency and virtue — a scene in which the earth was strewed 
with smoking ruins, with the fragments of human habitations, 
with mangled human beings in a state of wretchedness and 
despair, and with the unburied carcasses of the slain. 

Such appears to have been the state of general society at 
the time when Noah was commanded to build an ark of refuge 
— a state of society which could not have long continued, but 
must inevitably, in the course of a few generations, have thinned 
the race of mankind, and ultimately have extirpated the race 
of Adam from the earth, even although the deluge had never 

22 



254 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



been poured upon the world. Wickedness appears to have 
come to sucn a height, that no interposition of Providence 
could be supDosed available to produce a reformation among 
mankind, without destroying their freedom of will; and, 
therefore, it was an act of mercy, as well as of judgment, to 
sweep them away at once by the waters of the flood, after 
having given them warnings of their danger; in order to con- 
vince such obstinate and abandoned characters, that " there is 
a God that judgeth in the earth ;" and in order to prevent the 
misery which would otherwise have been entailed on succeed- 
ing generations, 

Not only the Sacred, but also the Pagan writers, when al- 
luding to tne antediluvians, uniformly represent them as 
abandoned tn uncleanness, and all kinds of wickedness. 
Eutychus, in his Annals, when speaking of the posterity of 
Cain, says, " that they were guilty of all manner of filthy 
crimes with one another, and, meeting together in public 
places for that purpose, two or three men were concerned 
with the same woman ; the ancient women, if possible, being 
more lustful and brutish than the young. Nay, fathers lived 
promiscuously with their daughters, and the young men with 
their mothers, so that neither the children could distinguish 
their own parents, nor the parents know their own children/' 
— Lucian, a native of Samosata, a town situated on the Eu- 
phrates, a spot where memorials of the deluge were carefully 
preserved, gives the following account of the antediluvians : 
— 44 The present race of mankind," says he, "are different 
from those who first existed : for those of the antediluvian 
world were all destroyed. The present world is peopled 
from the sons of Deucalion [or Noah] : having increased to 
so great a number from one person. In respect of the former 
brood, they were men of violence, and lawless in their deal- 
ings. Th*?y were contentious, and did many unrighteous 
things; they regarded not oaths, nor observed the rights of 
hospitality, nor showed mercy to those who sued for it. On 
this account they were doomed to destruction : and for this 
purpose there was a mighty eruption of waters from the earth, 
attended with heavy showers from above; so that the rivers 
swelled, and the sea overflowed, till the whole earth was cov- 
ered with a flood, and all flesh drowned. Deucalion alone 
was pre^rved to re-people the world. This mercy was 
shown to him on account of his piety and justice. His pre- 
servation effected in this manner : — He put all his family, 
both his sons and their wives, into a vast ark which he had 
provided, and he went, into it himself. At the same time ani* 



MORALS OF THE ANTEDILUVIANS. 



255 



mals of every species — boars, horses, lions, serpents, whatever 
kind lived upon the face of the earth — followed him by pairs ; 
all which he received into the ark, and experienced no evil 
from them ; for there prevailed a wonderful harmony through- 
out, by the immediate influence of the Deity. Thus were 
they waited with him as long as the flood endured." 

Such is the account which Lucian gives of the antediluvian 
world, and of the preservation of the human race, as he re- 
ceived it from the traditions of the inhabitants of Hierapolis, 
in Syria, where the natives pretended to have very particular 
memorials of the deluge. It corroborates the facts stated in 
the sacred history, and bears a very near resemblance to the 
authentic account which has been transmitted to us by Moses. 
— These facts, respecting the depravity of the antediluvians, 
present to us a striking example, and a demonstrative evidence 
of the dreadful effects to which a general violation of the di- 
vine law necessarily leads ; and of the extensive confusion 
and misery which are inevitably produced, when the law of 
love is set aside, and when malevolence exerts, without con- 
trol, its diabolical energies. All order in society is subvert- 
ed, every species of rational happiness is destroyed, and the 
existence of intelligent beings, in such a state, becomes a 
curse to themselves, and to all around them. Had not this 
been the case in the primeval world, we cannot suppose 
that the Deity would have exerted his Omnipotence in shat- 
tering the crust of the terraqueous globe, and burying its 
inhabitants under the waters of a deluge. 

After the deluge had subsided, and the race of Noah had 
begun to multiply on the earth, it was not long before the de- 
pravity of man began to show itself by its malignant effects ; 
though human wickedness has never arrived to such a pitch 
as in the times before the blood ; for this reason, among 
others, that the life of man has been reduced to a narrow span, 
which prevents him from carrying his malevolent schemes to 
such an extent as did the inhabitants of the world before the 
flood, whose lives were prolonged to the period of nearly a 
thousand years. The lust of ambition soon began to exert its 
baleful influence over the mind ; and an inordinate desire after 
wealth, distinctions, and aggrandizement, paved the way for 
the establishment of despotism, and for encroachments on the 
rights and the enjoyments of mankind. Among the heroes 
and despots of antiquity, JSimrod, the founder of the Babylo- 
nish empire, holds a distinguished place. He was the grand- 
son of Ham, the son of Noah, and is the first one mentioned 
in Scripture who appears to have made invasions on the ter- 
ritories of his neighbours. Having distinguished himself, by 



256 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



driving from his country the heasts of prey, and by engaging 
in other valorous exploits, he appears to have aspired after 
regal dignity and power, and to have assumed the reins of ab- 
solute government. He was the first that subverted the pa- 
triarchal government ; and is supposed to have introduced, 
among his subjects, the Zabian idolatry, or the worship of the 
heavenly host. 44 The beginning of his kingdom," we are 
told, " was Babylon, and Erech, and Accad, and Calneh, in 
the land of Shinar." In the footsteps of this proud and ambi- 
tious despot, has followed a train of Alexanders, Cesars, Han- 
nibals, Jenghiz-Kans, Attilas, Alaric, Tamerlanes, Marlbo- 
"•oughs, Fredericks, and Buonapartes, who have driven the 
plough-share of devastation through the world, erected 
thrones over the graves of slaughtered nations, decorated their 
palaces with trophies dyed in blood, and made the earth to 
resound with the groans and shrieks of dying victims, and the 
voice of mourning, lamentation, and wo. 

To delineate all the scenes of desolation and horror which 
*iave been produced by such desperadoes, and the atrocious 
crimes and immoralities which have followed in their train, 
ivould be to transcribe the whole records of ancient and mod- 
?rn history, which contain little else than a register of human 
folly, avarice, ambition, and cruelty ; and of the daring villanies 
with which they have been accompanied. Even then, we 
should acquire but a very limited conception of the extent of 
moral evil, and of the immense-variety of shapes which it has 
assumed ; for the one-tenth of the crimes of mankind has 
never been recorded ; and it is to the public transactions of 
only a small portion of the world that the page of the historian 
directs our attention. I shall, therefore, content myself with 
stating a few insulated facts, as specimens of the train of ac^ 
tions which have generally prevailed in the world* 

WARLIKE DISPOSITIONS OF MANKIND. 

War, as already noticed, has been the delight and the em- 
ployment of man in every age ; and, under this term may be 
included every thing that is base and execrable in moral con- 
duct, every thing that is subversive of the principle of be- 
nevolence, every thing that is destructive of human enjoy- 
ment, every thing that rouses the passions into diabolical fury, 
every thing that adds to the sum of human wretchedness, 
every thing that is oppressive, cruel, and unjust, and every 
thing that is dreadful and appalling to mankind. — As an ex- 
emplification of the destructive effects of war, I shall, in the 
first place, state a few facts in relation to the Carthaginians. 



CARTHAGINIAN WARS. 



257 



Carthage was originally a small colony of Phenicians, who, 
about 800 years before the Christian era, settled on the north 
ern coast of Africa, on a small peninsula, adjacent to the bay 
of Tunis. Having increased in wealth and power, by means 
of their extensive commerce, like most other nations, they 
attempted to make inroads on the territories of neighbouring 
tribes, and to plunder them of their treasures. By degrees 
they extended their power over all the islands in the Medi- 
terranean, Sicily only excepted. For the entire conquest of 
this island, about 480 years before Christ, they made vast 
preparations, which lasted for three years. Their army con- 
sisted of 300,000 men ; ther fleet was composed of upwards 
of 2000 men of war, and 3000 transports. With such an im- 
mense armament, they made no doubt of conquering the whole 
island in a single campaign. But they found themselves mi- 
serably deceived. Hamilcar, the most experienced captain 
of the age, sailed from Carthage with this formidable army, 
and invested the city of Hymera. The besieged were much 
straitened and dismayed by the operations of this powerful 
armament; but Gelon, the tyrant of Syracuse, flew immedi- 
ately to their relief, with 50,000 foot and 5000 horse. A 
dreadful slaughter ensued : an hundred and fifty thousand of 
the Carthaginians were killed in the battle and pursuit, and 
all the rest taken prisoners ; so that not a single person 
escaped of this mighty army. Of the 2000 ships of war, and 
the 3000 transports of which the fleet consisted, eight ships 
only, which then happened to be out at sea, made their 
escape : these immediately set sail for Carthage, but were all 
cast away, and every soul perished, except a few who were 
saved in a small boat, and at last reached Carthage with the dis- 
mal tidings of the total loss of the fleet and army. — Here we 
have presented to our view, in one short struggle, the entire de- 
struction of more than two hundred thousand human beings, if 
we take into account the number which must necessarily have 
fallen in the Sicilian army. And, if we take into considera 
tion the many thousands of mangled wretches, whose exis 
tence, from that moment, would be rendered miserable ; the 
destruction of property in the besieged city ; the victims 
crushed to death amidst the ruins of falling houses ; the cries, 
and shrieks, and lamentations of women and children ; the 
diseases and the misery induced by terror and alarm, and the 
loss of friends ; the terrific and appalling spectacle of 5000 
ships all on ablaze, often thousands of burning and drowning 
wretches, supplicating in vain for mercy, and the oaths, exe 
crations, and furious yells which would be mingled with 

22* 



258 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION, 



this work of destruction, we shall find it difficult to form aa 
adequate conception of the miseries and horrors of such a 
scene. And what was the cause of this dreadful slaughter 
and devastation ? That a proud and opulent city, whose inha- 
bitants were rioting in every species of luxury, might gratify 
its ambition, by tyrannizing over neighbouring tribes, and by 
plundering them of that wealth of which it did not stand in 
need. And this is but one instance out of ten hundred thou 
sand of the miseries of war, — one faint shade in the picture 
of human wo I 

One would have thought, that, after such a signal loss and 
discomfiture, the Carthaginians would have contented them- 
selves with their own territory, and refrained from aggressive 
war. This, however, was not the case. Where benevolence 
is banished from the mind, and revenge occupies its place in 
the affections, it will hurry unprincipled men to the most 
wild and atrocious actions, although they should terminate 
in destruction to themselves and to all around them. It was 
not long after this period, when preparations were again 
made for the invasion of Sicily. Hannibal, the grandson of 
Hamilcar, landed on the coast of Sicily, and laid siege to Seli- 
nus. The besieged made a vigorous defence ; but at last the 
: ity was taken by storm, and the inhabitants were treated with 
the utmost cruelty. All were massacred by the savage con- 
querors, except the women, who fled to the temples ; — and 
these escaped, not through the merciful dispositions of the 
Carthaginians, but because they were afraid, that, if driven 
to despair, they would set fire to the temples, and by that 
means consume the treasure they expected to find in those 
places. Sixteen thousand were massacred ; the women and 
children, about 5000 in number, were carried away captive ; 
the temples were plundered of all their treasures, and the city 
razed to the ground. Hymera was next besieged by Hannibal* 
and razed to its foundations. He forced three thousand pri- 
soners to undergo all kinds of ignominy and punishments, and 
at last murdered them, on the very spot where his grandfa- 
ther had been killed by Gelon's cavalry, to appease and satisfy 
his manes, by the blood of these unhappy victims. Such is 
the humanity and the justice of those men, whom we are ac- 
customed to distinguish by the names of Patriots and He- 
roes/— -Elated with these partial victories, the Carthaginians 
meditated the reduction of the whole of Sicily. They marched 
against the city of Agrigentum, and battered its walls with 
dreadful fury. The besieged defended themselves with 
laeiredible resolution. In a sally, they burned all the bat* 



CARTHAGINIAN WARS. 



259 



tering machines raised against their city, and repulsed the 
enemy with immense slaughter. Again the Carthaginians 
rallied their forces, beat down the walls of the city, plundered 
it of an immense booty, and with their usual cruelty, put all its 
inhabitants to the sword, not excepting even those who had 
fled to the temples. The Carthaginians were soon after forc- 
ed to retire from Sicily. Again they renewed their expedi- 
tions ; again they were repulsed ; and again they plunged into 
the horrors of war ; while thousands and ten thousands were 
slaughtered at every onset ; men, women, and children mas- 
sacred in cold blood, and the pestilence produced by the un- 
buried carcasses of the slain, proved more fatal to myriads, 
than even the sword of the warrior. 

In this manner did these infatuated mortals carry on a series 
of sanguinary contests for several centuries, with the Sicili- 
ans, Greeks, and other nations ; till, at length, they dared to 
encounter the power, and the formidable forces of the Ro- 
mans, and commenced those dreadful and long-continued con- 
flicts, distinguished in History by the name of The Punic 
Wars. The first Punic war lasted twenty-four years ; the 
second, seventeen years; and the third, four years and some 
months. Tn this last contest, the ploughshare of destruction 
was literally driven through their devoted city, by the Ro- 
mans. It was delivered up to be plundered by their soldiers; 
its gold, silver, statues, and other treasures amounting to 
4,470,000 pounds weight of silver, were carried oft* to Rome ; 
its towers, ramparts, walls, and all the works which the Car- 
thaginians had raised in the course of many ages, were level- 
led to the ground. Fire was set to the edifices of this proud 
metropolis, which consumed them all, not a single house es- 
caping the fury of the flames. And though the fire began in 
all quarters at the same time, and burned with incredible vio- 
lence, it continued for seventeen days before all the buildings 
were consumed. — Thus perished Carthage — a city which con- 
tained 700,000 inhabitants, and which had waged so many 
ferocious wars with neighbouring nations — a terrible example 
of the destructive effects produced by malevolent passions* 
and of the retributive justice of the Governor of the world. 
The destruction of human life in the numerous wars in which 
it was engaged, is beyond all specific calculation. During the 
space of sixteen years, Hannibal, the Carthaginian general, 
plundered no less than four hundred towns, and destroyed 
300,000 of his enemies; and we may safely reckon, that 
nearly an equal number of his own men must have been cut 
off by the opposing armies; so that several millions of hit* 



260 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION, 



man victims must have been sacrificed in these bloody and 
cruel wars. 

The following is a summary statement of the number of 
human beings that were slain in several of the battles recorded 
in history. — In the year 101 before Christ, in an engagement 
between Marius, the Roman Consul, and the Ambrones and 
the Teutones, in Transalpine Gaul, there were slain of these 
barbarians, besides what fell in the Roman army, 200,000, 
some historians say, 290,000. And it is related, that the in- 
habitants of the neighbouring country made fences for vine- 
yards of their bones. In the following year, the Romans, 
under the command of the same general, slaughtered 140,000 
of the Cimbri, and took 60,000 prisoners. In the year 105, 
R. C. the Romans, in a single engagement with the Cimbri 
and the Teutones, lost upwards of 80,000 men. In the bat- 
tle of Cannae, the Romans were surrounded by the forces of 
Hannibal, and cut to pieces. After an engagement of only 
three hour's, the carnage became so dreadful, that even the 
Carthaginian general cried out, to spare the conquered. Above 
40,000 Romans lay dead on the field, and six thousand of the 
Carthaginian army. What a dreadful display of the rage and 
fury of diabolical passions must have been exhibited on this 
occasion ! and what a horrible scene must have been pre- 
sented on the field of battle, when we consider, that, in the 
mode of ancient warfare, the slain were literally mangled, 
and cut to pieces ! — In the battle of Issus, between Alexander 
and Darius, were slain 110,000: in the battle of Arbela, two 
years afterwards, between the same two despots, 300,000 ; 
in the battle between Pyrrhus and the Romans, 25,000 ; in 
the battle between Scipio and AsdrubaL 40,000 ; in the battle 
between Suetonius and Boadicea, 80,000. In the siege of 
Jerusalem by Yespasian, according to the account of Jose- 
ph us, there were destroyed, in the most terrible manner, 
1,100,000; and there were slaughtered in Jerusalem, in 170, 
B. C. by Antioohus, 40,000. At Cyrene, there were slain of 
Romans and Greeks, by the Jews, 220,000 ; in Egypt and 
Cyprus, in the reign of Trajan, 240,000; and in the reign of 
Adrian, 580,000 Jews. After Julius Cesar had carried his 
arms into the territories of Usipetes in Germany, he de- 
feated them with such slaughter, that 400,000 are said to have 
perished in one battle. At the defeat of Attila, King of the 
Huns, at Chalons, there perished about 300,000. In the year 
631, there were slain by the Saracens in Syria, 60,000; in the 
invasion of Milan by the Goths, no less than 300,000; and in 
A. D. 734, by the Saracens in Spain, 370,000. In the battle 



SCENES OF HUMAN DESTRUCTION. 



2GI 



of Fontenay, were slaughtered 100,000; in the battle of Yer- 
mouk, 150,000 ; and in the battle between Charles Martel and 
the Mahometans, 350,000. In the battle of Muret, in A. D. 
1213, between the Catholics and the Albigenses, were slain 
32,000; in the battle of Cressy, in 1346, 50,000 ; in the battle 
of Halidon-hill, in 1333, 20,000; in the battle of Agincourt, 
in 1415, 20,000; in the battle of Towton, in 1461, 37,000; 
in the battle of Lepanto, in 1571, 25,000 ; at the siege of Vi- 
enna, in 1683, 70,000 ; and in a battle in Persia, in 1734, 
60,000.* 

The most numerous army of which we have any account 
in the annals of history, was that of Xerxes. According to 
the statement of Rollin, which is founded on the statements of 
Herodotus, Isocrates, and Plutarch, this army consisted of 
1,700,000 foot, 80,000 horse, and 20,000 men for conducting 
the carriages and camels, On passing the Helespont, an ad- 
dition was made to it from other nations, of 300,000, which 
made his land forces amount to 2,100,000. His fleet consisted 
of 1207 vessels, each carrying 230 men ; in all 277,610 men, 
which w r as augmented by the European nations, with 1200 
vessels, carrying 240,000 men. Besides this fleet the small gal- 
leys, transport ships, &c. amounted to 3000, containing about 
240,000 men. Including servants, eunuchs, women, sutlers, 
and others, who usually follow an army, it is reckoned, that 
the whole number of souls that followed Xerxes into Greece, 
amounted to 5,283,220; which is more than the whole of the 
male population of Great Britain and Ireland, above twenty 
years of age, and nearly triple the whole population of Scot- 
land. After remaining some time in Greece, nearly the whole 
of this immense army, along with the fleet, was routed and 
destroyed. Mardonius, one of his ablest commanders, with 
an army of 300,000, was finally defeated and slain at the bat- 
tle of Platea, and only three thousand of this vast army, with 
difficulty, escaped destruction. 

The destruction of human life in the wars which accompa- 
nied and followed the incursions of the barbarians, who over- 
threw the Roman empire, is beyond all calculation or con- 
ception. It forms an era in history most degrading to the 
human species. In the war which was waged in Africa, in 
the days of Justinian, Procopius remarks, " It is no exaggera- 
tion to say, that five millions perished by the sw r ord, and fa- 

* The above statements are collected from the facts stated in Rollin's 
Ancient History, Millot's Elements, Mayor's Universal History, the his- 
torical Articles in the Encyclopedia Britannica, from a list of battles con- 
tained in the " Pictures of War," &c^ 



262 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



mine, and pestilence." The same author states that, during 
the twenty years' war which Justinian carried on with the 
Gothic conquerors of Italy, the loss of the Goths amounted to 
above 15 millions ; nor will this appear incredible, when we 
find, that in one campaign, 50,000 labourers died of hunger. 
About the beginning of the 13th century arose that cruel and 
bloody tyrant Jenghiz-Khan. With immense armies, some 
of them amounting to more than a million in number, he over- 
ran and subdued the kingdom of Hya in China, Tangut, Ki- 
tay, Turkestan, Karazm, Great Buckaria, Persia, and part of 
India, committing the most dreadful cruelties and devasta- 
tions. It is computed, that, during the last 22 years of his 
reign, no fewer than 14,470,000 persons were butchered by 
this scourge of the human race. He appeared like an infer- 
nal fiend, breathing destruction to the nations of the East, and 
the principle which he adopted, after conquest, was utter ex- 
termination. 

Nearly about the same period when this monster was ravag- 
ing and slaughtering the eastern world, those mad expedi- 
tions, distinguished by the name of the Crusades, were going 
forward in the west. Six millions c*f infatuated wretches, 
raging with hatred, and thirsting for blood, assumed the image 
of the cross, and marched in wild disorder to the confines of 
the Hoi} land, in order to recover the city of Jerusalem from 
the handb of the infidels. In these holy wars, as they were 
impiously termed, more than 850,000 Europeans were sacri- 
ficed before they obtained possession of Nice, Antioch, and 
Edessa. At the siege of Acre, 300,000 were slain ; and at the 
taking of Jerusalem, in 1099, about seventy thousand. For 
196 years, these wild expeditions continued in vogue, and 
were urged forward by proclamations issued from the throne, 
and by fanatical sermons thundered from the pulpit, till seve- 
ral millions of deluded mortals perished from the earth ; for 
oy far the greater part of those who engaged in the crusades, 
were either slain or taken prisoners. About this period, and 
several centuries before it, the whole earth exhibited little 
else than one great field of battle, in which nations were dash- 
ing against each other, conquerors ravaging kingdoms, tyrants 
exercising the most horrid cruelties ; superstition and revenge 
immolating their millions of victims ; and tumults, insurrec- 
tions, slaughter, and universal alarm, banishing peace and 
tranquillity from the world, and subverting the moral order of 
society. " In Europe, Germany and Italy were distracted by 
incessant contests between the pope and the emperors ; the 
interior of every European kingdom was torn in pieces by the 



NUMBERS SLAIN IN WAR. 



263 



contending ambition of the powerful barons ; in the Mahomedan 
empire, the caliphs, sultans, emirs, &c. waged continual war ; 
new sovereignties were daily arising, and daily destroyed ; 
and amidst this universal slaughter and devastation, the whole 
earth seemed in danger of being laid waste, and the human 
race to suffer a total annihilation."* 

Such is the bird's eye view of the destruction of the human 
species, which war has produced in different periods. The in- 
stances I have brought forward present only a few detached 
circumstances in the annals of warfare, and relate only to 
a few limited periods in the history of man : and yet in the 
four instances above stated, we are presented with a scene of 
horror, which includes the destruction of nearly 50 millions of 
human beings. What a vast and horrific picture, then, would 
he presented to the eye, could we take in at one view all the 
scenes of slaughter, which have been realized in every period, 
in every nation, and among every tribe ! If we take into con- 
sideration not only the number of those who have fallen in 
the field of battle, but of those who have perished through the 
natural consequences of war, by the famine and the pestilence, 
which war has produced ; by disease, fatigue, terror, and me- 
lancholy ; and by the oppression, injustice, and cruelty of 
savage conquerors, — it will not, perhaps, be overrating the 
destruction of human life, if we affirm, that one-tenth of the 
human race has been destroyed by the ravages of war. And 
if this estimate be admitted, it will follow, that more than 
fourteen thousand millions of human beings have been slaugb 
tered in war, since the beginning of the world — which is abou\ 
eighteen times the number of inhabitants which, at the pre 
sent, exist on the globe ; or, in other words, it is equivalent 
to the destruction of the inhabitants of eighteen worlds of the 
same population as ours.t That this conclusion is rather 
within than beyond the bounds of truth, will appear, from 
what has been stated above respecting the destruction of the 
Goths, in the time of Justinian. In the course of 20 yean 
15 millions of persons perished in the wars. Now, if the po- 
pulation of the countries of Europe, in which these wars took 
place, did not exceed 60 millions, the proportion of the slaugh- 
tered to the whole population was as one to four, and, if 20 
years be reckoned as only half the period of a generation, the 
proportion was as one to two; in other words, at the rate 6f 

* Mayor's Universal History, Robertson's Charles V. &c. 

t This calculation proceeds on the ground, that 145 thousand mil- 
lions of men have existed since the Mosaic creation See Christian 
Philosopher, 3d edit. Art. Geography, 



264 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



one half of a whole generation in the course of 40 years. 
What a horrible and tremendous consideration ? — to reflect, 
that 14,000,000,000 of beings, endowed with intellectual fa- 
culties, and furnished with bodies curiously organized by di- 
vine wisdom — that the inhabitants of eighteen worlds should 
have been massacred, mangled, and cut to pieces, by those 
who were partakers of the same common nature, as if they 
had been created merely for the work of destruction ! Lan- 
guage is destitute of words sufficiently strong to express the 
emotions of the mind, when it seriously contemplates the hor- 
rible scene. And how melancholy is it to reflect, that in the 
present age, which boasts of its improvements in science, in 
civilization, and in religion, neither reason, nor benevolence, 
nor humanity, nor Christianity, has yet availed to arrest the 
progress of destroying armies, and to set a mark of ignominy 
on " the people who delight in war!" 

ATROCITIES CONNECTED WITH WAR. 

However numerous may have been the victims that have 
been saoificed in war, it is not so much the mere extinction 
of human life that renders the scene of warfare so horrible, as 
the crueltief with which it has always been accompanied, and 
the infernal passions which it has engendered and carried into 
operation. It extirpates every principle of compassion, hu- 
manity, and justice ; it blunts the feelings, and hardens the 
heart; it invents instruments of torture, and perpetrates, with- 
out a blush, cruelties revolting to every principle of virtue and 
benevolence. 

When Jerusalem was taken by Antiochus Epiphanes, in the 
year 168, B. C. he gave orders to one division of his army to 
cut in pieces all who were found in the temple and synagogues; 
while another party, going through the streets of the city, 
massacred all that came in their way. He next ordered the 
city to be plundered and set on fire ; pulled down all their 
stately buildings, caused the walls to be demolished, and car- 
ried away captive ten thousand of those who had escaped the 
slaughter. He set up the statue of Jupiter Olympus on the 
altar of burnt-offerings, and all who refused to come and wor- 
ship this idol were either massacred, or put to some cruel tor- 
tures, till they either complied or expired under the r^ands 
of the executioners. In the war which the Carthaginians 
waged with the Mercenaries, Hamilcar, the Carthaginian gene- 
ral, threw all the prisoners that fell into his hands to be de- 
voured by wild beasts. Asdrubal, another Carthaginian 



ATROCITIES CONNECTED WITH WAR. 



265 



general, when engaged in war against the Romans, in revenge 
for a defeat he had sustained, brought all the Roman prison- 
ers he had taken during two years, upon the walls, in the 
sight of the whole Roman army. There he put them to the 
most exquisite tortures, putting out their eyes, cutting off 
their noses, ears, and fingers, legs and arms, tearing their skin 
to pieces with iron rakes or harrows; and then threw them 
headlong from the top of the battlements.* He was of a tem- 
per remarkably inhuman, and it is said that he even took 
pleasure in seeing some of these unhappy men flayed alive.— 
In the year 1201, when Jenghiz-Khan had reduced the rebels 
who had seized upon his paternal possessions, as a specimen 
of his lenity, he caused seventy of their chiefs to be thrown 
into as many cauldrons of boiling water. The plan on which 
this tyrant conducted his expeditions, as already stated, was 
that of total extermination. For some time he utterly extir- 
pated the inhabitants of those places which he conquered, 
designing to people them anew with his Moguls ; and, in con- 
sequence of this resolution, he would employ his army in 
beheading 100,000 prisoners at once. — Tamerlane, one of his 
successors, who followed in his footsteps, is said to have been 
more humane than this cruel despot. Historians inform us 
that 44 his sportive cruelty seldom went farther than the pound- 
ing of three or four thousand people in large mortars, or 
building them among bricks and mortar into a wall." If such 
be the " tender mercies of the wicked," how dreadful beyond 
description must their cruelties be ! 

We are accustomed to hear Alexander the Great eulogized 
as a virtuous and magnanimous hero ; and even the celebrated 
Montesquieu, in his " Spirit of Laws," has written a panegyric 
on his character. Yet we find him guilty of the most abomi- 
nable vices, and perpetrating the most atrocious crimes. At 
the instigation of the strumpet Thais, during a drunken ban- 
quet, he set on fire the beautiful city of Persepolis, and con- 
sumed it to ashes. Clitus, one of his captains, and brother of 
Helenice who had nursed Alexander, had saved his life at the 
battle of the Granicus, at the imminent hazard of his own. 
Yet this man, to whom he was so highly indebted, he thrust 
through with a javelin, at an entertainment to which he had 
invited him ; on account of his uttering some strong expres- 
sions, which were intended to moderate Alexander's vanity. 
His treatment of the Branchidae furnishes an example of the 
most brutal and frantic cruelty which history records. These 



* Rollin's Ancient History, Vol. I. 
23 



266 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



people received Alexander, while pursuing his conquests, 
with the highest demonstrations of joy, and surrendered to 
him, both themselves and their city. The next day, he com- 
manded his phalanx to surround the city, and, a signal being 
given, they were ordered to plunder it, and to put every one 
of its inhabitants to the sword, which inhuman order was 
executed with the same barbarity with which it had been 
given. All the citizens, at the very time they were going to 
pay homage to Alexander, were murdered in the streets and 
in their houses; no manner of regard being had to their cries 
and tears, nor the least distinction made of age or sex. They 
even pulled up the very foundations of the walls, in order 
that not the least traces of that city might remain. And why 
were these ill-fated citizens punished in so summary and inhu- 
man a manner? Merely because their forefathers, upwards of 
one hundred and fifty years before, had delivered up to Xerxes 
the treasure of the temple Didymaon, with which they had been 
intrusted !* — When he entered the city of Tyre, after a siege 
of seven months, he gave orders to kill all the inhabitants, 
except those who had fled to the temples, and set fire to every 
part of the city. Eight thousand men were barbarously 
slaughtered ; and two thousand more remaining, after the 
soldiers had been glutted with slaughter, he fixed two thou- 
sand crosses along the sea-shore, f and caused them all to be 
crucified. 

War has given rise to the most shocking and unnatural 
crimes, the idea of which might never otherwise have entered 
uito the human mind. Lathyrus, after an engagement wi.h 
Alexander, king of the Jews, on the banks of the river Jordan, 
— the same evening he gained the battle, in going to take up 
his quarters in the neighbouring villages, he found them full of 
women and children, and caused them all to be put to the 
sword, and their bodies to be cut to pieces, and put into caul- 
drons in order to their being dressed, as if he intended to 
make his army sup upon them. His design was to have it 
believed, that his troops ate human flesh, to spread the greater 
terror throughout the surrounding country.^ 

Even under the pretext of religion, and of the Christian 
Religion too, the most shocking barbarities have been com- 
mitted. Under the pretence of vindicating the cause of Him 
who, in the midst of cruel sufferings from men, prayed, "Fa- 
ther, forgive them, for they know not what they do," the 
Crusaders hurried forward towards Jerusalem, wading through 



* Rollin's Ancient Hist. t Ibid. % Ibid. 



ATROCITIES CONNECTED WITH WAR. 



267 



seas of blood. When their banners were hoisted on a princi- 
pal eminence of Antioch, they commenced their butchery of 
the sleeping inhabitants. The dignity of age, the helplessness 
of youth, and the beauty of the weaker sex, were disregarded 
by these sanctimonious savages. Houses were no sanctuaries; 
and the sight of a mosque added new virulence to cruelty. The 
number of Turks massacred, on this night of frantic fury, was 
at least ten thousand. After every species of habitation, from 
the marble palace to the meanest hovel, had been converted 
into a scene of slaughter; when the narrow streets and the 
spacious squares were all alike disfigured with human gore, 
and crowded with mangled carcasses, then the assassins turned 
robbers, and became as mercenary as they had been merci- 
less. When Jerusalem was taken by these furious fanatics, 
they suffered none to escape the slaughter: "Yet, after they 
had glutted themselves with blood and carnage, they immedi- 
ately became devout pilgrims, and in religious transports, ran 
barefooted to visit the holy sepulchre."* In what light must 
that religion appear to Eastern Infidels which is supposed to 
lead to the perpetration of such enormities? And how woful- 
ly are the mild precepts and doctrines of Christianity mis- 
represented, when desperadoes of this description dare 
assume the Christian name ! 

Even the finer feelings of the female sex have been blunted, 
and, in many instances, quite extirpated by the mad schemes 
of ambition, and the practices connected with war. Towards 
the beginning of the thirteenth century, a Queen of Hungary 
took the sign of the cross, and embarked in the mad expedi- 
tions of the Crusaders, as did likewise fifty thousand children 
and a crowd of priests ; because, according to the Scripture, 
" God has made children the instruments of his glory. "f — 
Cleopatra, daughter of Ptolemy Philometer, in order to gratify 
her restless ambition of reigning alone and uncontrolled in 
her dominions, killed her son Seleucus, with her own hand, 
by plunging a dagger into his breast. She had been the wife 
of three kings of Syria and the mother of four, and had occa- 
sioned the death of two of her husbands. She prepared a 
poisoned draught to destroy Grypus another of her sons ; but 
her intention having been suspected, she was compelled to 
swallow the deadly potion she had prepared, which took im- 
mediate effect, and delivered the world from this female mon- 
ster. The Carthaginians were in the practice of offering hu- 
man sacrifices to their god Saturn, when they were defeated 

* Millot's Elements of Gen. Hist. t Millot's Elem. 



268 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



in war, in order to propitiate the wrath of this deity. At 
first, children were inhumanly burned, either in a fiery fur- 
nace, like those in the valley of Hinnom, so frequently men- 
tioned in Scripture, or in a flaming statue of Saturn. — The 
cries of these unhappy victims were drowned by the uninter- 
rupted noise of drums and trumpets. Mothers made it a 
merit, and a part of their religion, to view the barbarous spec- 
tacle with dry eyes, and without so much as a groan ; and if a 
tear or sigh stole from them, the sacrifice was considered as less 
acceptable to the deity. This savage disposition was carried 
to such excess, that even mothers would endeavour, with 
embraces and kisses to hush the cries of their children, lest 
they should anger the god.* When Carthage was taken by 
the Romans, the wife of AsdrubaJ, the Carthaginian general, 
who had submitted to the Romans, mounted to the upper part 
of one of the temples which had been set on fire ; and, placing 
herself, with her two children, in sight of her husband, ut- 
tered the most bitter imprecations against him. " Base cow- 
ard (said she) the mean things thou hast clone to save thy 
life shall not avail thee ; thou shalt die this instant, at least in 
thy two children." Having thus spoken, she stabbed both 
the infants with a dagger, and while they were yet struggling 
for life, threw them both from the top of the temple, and then 
leaped down after them into the flames. f 

Such are only a few insulated pictures of the atrocities of 
war, and of the unnatural and infernal passions which uni- 
formly follow in its train, which may be considered as speci- 
mens of many thousands of similar instances, which the re- 
cords of history furnish of the malignity and depravity of 
mankind. I have selected my examples chiefly from the 
history of ancient warfare : but were we to search the annals 
of modern warfare, and confine our attention solely to the 
battles of Alexandria, of the Pyramids, of Borodina, of Smo- 
lensko, of Austerlitz, of Leipsic, of Jena, of Eylan, of Water- 
loo, and other warlike events which have happened within 
the last thirty years, we should meet with atrocities and 
scenes of slaughter, no less horrible than those which I have 
now related. I shall content myself with stating only two or 
three instances. 

After the taking of Alexandria by Buonaparte, " We were 
under the necessity," says the relator, " of putting the whole 
of them to death at the breach. But the slaughter did not 
cease with the resistance. The Turks and inhabitants fled to 



* Rollin's An. Hist. 



t Ency. BriU Art. Carthage* 



ATROCITIES CONNECTED WITH WAR. 



269 



their mosques, seeking protection from God and their prophet , 
and then, men and women, old and young, and infants at the 
breast, were slaughtered. This butchery continued for foui 
hours ; after which the remaining part of the inhabitants were 
much astonished at not having their throats cut." Be it re- 
membered that all this bloodshed was premeditated. " We 
might have spared the men whom we lost," says General 
Boyer, " by only summoning the town ; but it was necessary 
to begin by confounding our enemy."* After the battle of the 
Pyramids, it is remarked by an eye-witness, that 44 the whole 
way through the desert, was tracked with the bones and bodies 
of men and animals who had perished in these dreadful 
wastes.— In order to warm themselves at night, they gathered 
together the dry bones and bodies of the dead, which the vul- 
tures had spared, and it was by afire composed of this fuel that 
Buonaparte lay down to sleep in the desert /"t A more re 
volting and infernal scene it is scarcely possible for the ima- 
gination to depict. 

Miot gives the following description in relation to a scene 
at Jaffa : — 44 The soldier abandons himself to all the fury which 
an assault authorises. He strikes, he slays, nothing can im- 
pede him. All the horrors which accompany the capture of 
a town by storm, are repeated in every street, in every house. 
You hear the cries of violated females calling in vain for help 
to those relatives whom they are butchering. No asylum is 
respected. The blood streams on every side ; at every step 
you meet with human beings groaning and expiring, &c." — 
Sir Robert Wilson, when describing the campaigns in Poland 
relates, that 44 the ground between the wood, and the Russian 
batteries, about a quarter of a mile, was a sheet of naked human 
bodies, which friends and foes had during the night mutually 
stripped, not leaving the worst rag upon them, although num- 
bers of these bodies still retained consciousness of their situa- 
tion. It was a sight which the eye loathed, but from which it 
could not remove." — In Labaume's 44 Narrative of the Cam- 
paign in Russia," we are presented with the most horrible de- 
tails of palaces, churches, and streets, enveloped in flames, — 
houses tumbling into ruins, — hundreds of blackened carcasses 
of the wretched inhabitants, whom the fire had consumed, 
blended with the fragments, — hospitals containing 20,000 
wounded Russians on fire, and consuming the miserable vic- 
tims, — numbers of half-burned wretches crawling among the 
smoking ruins, — females violated and massacred, — parenta 



Miot's Memoirs. t Ibid. 

23* 



270 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION"* 



and children half naked, shivering with cold, flying in conster- 
nation with the wrecks of their half consumed furniture, — 
horses falling in thousands, and writhing in the agonies of 
death, — the fragments of carriages, muskets, helmets, breast- 
plates, portmanteaus, and garments strewed in every direction, 
—roads covered for miles with thousands of the dying and the 
the dead heaped one upon another, and swimming in blood, 
— and these dreadful scenes rendered still more horrific by the 
shrieks of young females, of mothers and children, and the 
piercing cries of the wounded and the dying, invoking death 
to put an end to their agonies. 

But I will not dwell longer on such revolting details. It is 
probable, that the feelings of some of my readers have been 
harrowed up by the descriptions already given, and that they 
have turned away their eyes in disgust from such spectacles of 
depravity and horror. Every mind susceptible of virtuous 
emotions, and of the eommon feelings of humanity, must, in- 
deed, feel pained and even agonized, when it reflects on the 
depravity of mankind, and on the atrocious crimes they are 
capable of committing, and have actually perpetrated. A se- 
rious retrospect of the moral state of the world in past ages, 
is calculated to excite emotions, similar to those which over- 
powered the mourning prophet when he exclaimed, 61 0 that 
my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that 
I might weep day and night, for the slain of the daughters of 
my people !" But, however painful the sight, we ought not 
to turn away our eyes, with fastidious affectation, from the 
spectacles of misery and devastation which the authentic 
records of history present before us. They form traits in 
the character of man, which ought to be contemplated, — they 
^re facts in the history of mankind, and not the mere pictures 
of fancy which are exhibited in poetry, in novels, and romances, 
— facts which forcibly exemplify the operation of the malevo- 
lent principle, and from which we ought to deduce important 
instructions, in reference to the evil of sin, and the malignancy 
of pride, covetousness, ambition, and revenge. We think 
nothing, in the common intercourse of life, of indulging a 
selfish disposition, of feeling proud and indignant at a real or 
supposed affront, of looking with a covetous eye at the pos- 
sessions of our neighbours, of viewing the success and pros- 
perity of our rivals with discontentment and jealously, or of 
feeling a secret satisfaction at the distress or humiliation of 
our enemies ; and we seldom reflect on the malignant effects 
which such passions and dispositions would produce, were 
they suffered to rage without control. But, in the scenes and 



3I0RAL REFLECTIONS. 



271 



contentions of warfare which have been realized on the great 
theatre of the world, we contemplate the nature and effects of 
<?uch malignant dispositions in their true light ; we perceive 
the ultimate tendency of every malevolent affection, when no 
physical obstruction impedes its progress ; we discern that it 
is only the same dispositions which we daily indulge, operat- 
ing on a more extensive scale ; and we learn the necessity of 
mortifying such dispositions, and counteracting their influ- 
ence, if we expect to enjoy substantial felicity either here or 
hereafter ; and if we wish to see the world restored to order, 
to happiness and repose. 

I shall only observe farther on this part of my subject, that, 
besides the atrocities already noticed, war has been the nurse 
of every vicious disposition, and of every immoral practice. 
The Carthaginians, who were almost incessantly engaged in 
war, were knavish, vicious, cruel, and superstitious ; distin- 
guished for craft and cunning, lying and hypocrisy, and for 
the basest frauds and the most perfidious actions. The Goths 
and Vandals are uniformly characterized, as not only barba- 
rous and cruel, but avaricious, perfidious, and disregardful of 
the most solemn promises. It was ever a sufficient reason 
for them to make an attack, that they thought their enemies 
could not resist them. Their only reason for making peace, 
or for keeping it, was because their enemies were too strong ; 
and their only reason for committing the mosthorrible massa- 
cres, rapes, and all manner of crimes, was because they had 
gained a victory. The Greeks and Romans, it is well known, 
notwithstanding their superior civilization, were distinguished 
for the most degrading and immoral practices. They gloried 
in being proud, haughty, and revengeful ; and even their 
amusements were characterized by a spirit of ferocity, and by 
the barbarisms of war. — It is almost needless to say that war 
blunts the finer feelings of humanity, and engenders a spirit 
of selfishness, and of indifference even towards friends and 
companions. Of this many shocking instances could be 
given. 

Miot, in his Memoirs of the War in Egypt, relates the case 
of a soldier who was seized with the plague, and with the de- 
lirium which sometimes accompanies the disease. He took 
up his knapsack, upon which his head was resting, and, 
placing it upon his shoulders, made an effort to rise, and to 
follow the army. The venom of the dreadful malady deprived 
him of strength, and after three steps, he fell again upon the 
sand, headlong. The fall increased his terror of being left by 
the regiment, and he rose a second time, but with no better 



272 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



fortune. In his third effort, he sunk, and, falling near the sea, 
remained upon that spot which fate had destined for his grave. 
The sight of this soldier was frightful : the disorder which 
reigned in his senseless speech— his figure, which represented 
whatever is mournful — his eyes staring and fixed — his clothes 
in rags — presented whatever is most hideous in death. The 
reader may perhaps believe that his comrades would be con 
cerned for him ; that they would stop to help him ; that they 
would hasten to support him, and direct his tottering steps. 
Far from it : the poor wretch w T as only an object of horror 
and derision. They ran from him, and they burst into loud 
laughter at his motions, which resembled those of a drunken 
man, "He has got his account," cried one; "He will not 
march far," said another ; and, when the wretch fell for the 
last time, some of them added, " See, he has taken up his 
quarters !" This terrible truth, says the narrator, which I 
cannot help repeating, must be ackno\\ r \edged---Indifference 
and selfishness are the predominant feelings of an army. 

Rocca, in his " Memoirs of the War in Spain," remarks, 
" The habit of danger made us look upon death as one of the 
most ordinary circumstances oflife ; when cur comrades had 
once ceased to live, the indifference which was shown them 
amounted almost to irony. When the soldiers, as they passed 
by, recognize-d one of their companions stretched among the 
dead, they just said, 'He is in want of nothing, he will not 
have his horse to abuse again, lie has got drunk for the last 
time,' or something similar, which only worked, in the speak- 
er, a stoical contempt of existence. Such were the funeral 
orations pronounced in honour of those who fell in our bat- 
tles." — Simpson, in his ''Visit to Flanders," in 1815, remarks, 
"Nothing is more frightful than the want of feeling which 
characterizes the French soldiery. Their prisoners who were 
lying wounded in the hospitals of Antwerp, were often seen 
mimicking the contortions of countenance which were pro- 
duced by the agonies of death, in one of their own comrades in 
the next bed. There is no curse to be compared with the 
power of fiends like these." 

Thus, it appears, that wars have prevailed in every period, 
during the ages that are past, and have almost extirpated the 
principle of benevolence from the world ; and, therefore, it is 
obvious, that, before the prevailing propensity to warfare be 
counteracted and destroyed, the happiness which flows from 
the operation of the benevolent affections cannot be enjoyed 
by mankind at large. To counteract this irrational and most 
deplorable propensity, by every energetic mean which rea- 



DISPOSITIONS OF SAVAGE NATIONS. 



273 



son, humanity, and Christianity can suggest, must be the duty 
of every one who is desirous to promote the present and ever 
lasting happiness of his species.* 



SECTION II. 

STATE OF MORALS IN MODERN TIMES. 

Moral state of Savage Nations. 

I shall now take a very brief survey of the state of mo- 
rals in modern times, and of the prevailing dispositions 
which are displayed b v the existing inhabitants of our 
globe. Were I to er^ei into those minute and circum- 
stantial details which the illustration of this subject would re- 
quire, several volumes would be filled with the detail of facts, 
and with the sketches of moral scenery which might be brought 
forward. And such a work, if judiciously executed, might be 
rendered highly interesting, and might produce a variety of 
benignant effects both on Christian and on general society 
But the narrow limits within which the present work must be 
comprised, compels me to confine my attention to a few pro- 
minent features in the characters of mankind, and, to a few 
insulated facts by which they may be illustrated. — I shall con 
sider, in the first place, some of the 

Prominent dispositions which appear am mg Savage and half* 
civilized Nations : 

It is not to be disputed, that numerous individuals among 
the uncivilized tribes of mankind, have occasionally displayed 
the exercise of many of the social virtues, — that they have 
been brave and magnanimous, faithful to their promises, strong 
in their attachments, and generous and affectionate to their 

* The Author intended, had his limits permitted, to state some addi- 
tional considerations to show the folly and wickedness of war. In the 
mean time, he refers his readers to "Letters addressed to Caleb Strong, 
Esq." which contain a series of energetic and impressive reasonings on 
the subject. — " Pictures of War," by Irenicus ; and a duodecimo volume, 
lately published, entitled, "An Inquiry into the accordancy of War with 
.the principles of Christianity," &c. 



274 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



friends and relatives. But their virtues, for tne most part, 
proceed from a principle of selfishness, and are confined to 
the clan or tribe to which they belong. Towards their ene- 
mies, and towards all who have injured them in the slightest 
degree, they almost uniformly display cruel, perfidious, and 
revengeful dispositions. The following facts and descriptions, 
selected from the authentic records of voyagers and travellers, 
will tend to corroborate these positions. 

The most prominent feature which appears in the character 
of savage nations, is, their disposition for war, and to inflict 
revenge for real or supposed injuries. With respect to the 
North American Indians, it is the uniform description given 
of them by all travellers, that, if we except hunting, war is the 
only employment of the men, and every other concern is left 
to the women. Their most common motive for entering into 
war, is, either to revenge themselves for the death of some 
lost friends, or to acquire prisoners, who may assist them in their 
hunting, and whom they adopt into ^.heir society. In these 
wars, they are cruel and savage, to an incredible degree. They 
enter, unawares, the villages of their foes, and, while the 
flower of the nation are engaged in hunting, massacre all the 
children, women, and helpless old men, or make prisoners of 
as many as they can manage. But when the enemy is ap- 
prised of their design, and coming on in arms against them, 
they throw themselves flat on the ground, among the withered 
herbs and leaves, which their faces are painted to resemble. 
They then allow a part to pass unmolested ; when, all at once, 
with a tremendous shout, rising up from their ambush, they 
pour a storm of musket-balls on their foes. If the force on 
each side continues nearly equal, the fierce spirits of these 
savages, inflamed by the loss of friends, can no longer be re- 
strained. They abandon their distant war, they rush upon 
one another with clubs and hatchets in their hands, magnify- 
ing their own courage, and insulting their enemies. A cruel 
combat ensues ; death appears in a thousand hideous forms, 
which would congeal the blood of civilized nations to behold, 
but which rouse the fury of these savages. They trample, 
they insult over the dead bodies, tearing the scalp from the 
head, wallowing in their blood like wild beasts, and sometimes 
devouring their flesh. The flame rages on till it meets with 
no resistance ; then the prisoners are secured, whose fate is a 
thousand times more dread fid than theirs who have died in the 
field. The conquerors set up a hideous howling, to lament 
the friends they have lost. They approach to their own vil- 
lage ; the women, with frightful shrieks, come out to mourn 



DISPOSITIONS OF SAVAGE NATIONS. 



275 



their dead brothers, or their husbands. An Orator proclaims 
aloud a circumstantial account of every particular of the expe- 
dition ; and as he mentions the names of those who have fallen, 
the shrieks of the women are redoubled. The last ceremony 
is, the proclamation of victory: each individual then forgets 
his private misfortune, and joins in the triumph of his nation; 
all tears are wiped from their eyes, and, by an unaccountable 
transition, they pass in a moment from the bitterness of sor- 
row, to an extravagance of joy.* 

As they feel nothing but revenge for the enemies of their 
nation, their prisoners are treated with cruelty in the extreme. 
The cruelties inflicted on those prisoners who are doomed to 
death, are too shocking and horrible to be exhibited in detail, 
one plucks out the nails of the prisoner by the roots ; another 
takes a finger into his mouth, and tears off the flesh with his 
teeth ; a third thrusts the finger, mangled as it is, into the 
bowi of a pipe made red hot, which he smokes like tobacco : 
they then pound his toes and fingers to pieces between two 
stones ; they apply red hot irons to every part of his mangled 
body; they pull off his flesh, thus mangled and roasted, and 
devour it with greediness ;~— and thus they continue for several 
hours, and sometimes for a whole day, till they penetrate to 
the vital parts, and completely exhaust the springs of life. 
Even the women, forgetting the human, as well as the female 
nature, and transformed into something worse than furies, fre- 
quently outdo the men in this scene of horror : while the prin- 
cipal persons of the country sit round the stake to which the 
prisoner is fixed, smoking, and looking on without the least 
emotion. What is most remarkable, the prisoner himself en- 
deavours to brave his torments with a stoical apathy. "I do 
not fear death, (he exclaims in the face of his tormentors,) nor 
any kind of tortures ; those that fear them are cowards, they 
are less than women. May my enemies be confounded with 
despair and rage ! Oh, that I could devour them, and drink 
their blood to the last drop !" . 

Such is a faint picture of the ferocious disposition of the In- 
dians of America, which, with a few slight modifications, will 
apply to almost the whole of the original natives of that vast 
continent. Instead of the exercise of benevolent affections, 
and of forgiving dispositions; instead of humane feelings, and 
compassion for the sufferings of fellow-mortals, we here be- 
hold them transported into an extravagance of joy, over the 
sufferings they had produced, the carnage they had created, the 



See Ency. Brit. Art. America. 



276 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



children whom they had deprived of their parents, and the 
widows whose husbands they had mangled and slain ; because 
they had glutted their revenge, and obtained a victory. No- 
thing can appear more directly opposed to the precepts of 
Christ, and to the benevolence of heaven. 

If, from America, we cross the Atlantic, and land on the 
shores of Africa, we shall find the existing inhabitants of that 
continent displaying dispositions no less cruel and ferocious. — 
Bosnian relates the following instances of cruelties practised 
by the Adomese Negroes, inhabiting the banks of the Praa 
or Chamah river. 

"Anqua, the king, having in an engagement taken five of 
his principal Antese enemies prisoners, he wounded them all 
over; after which, with a more than brutal fury, he satiated, 
though not tired himself, by sucking their blood at the gaping 
wounds ; but, bearing a more than ordinary grudge against 
one of them, he caused him to be laid bound at his feet, and 
his body to be pierced with hot irons, gathering his blood that 
issued from him in a vessel, one half of which he drank, and 
and offered up the rest to his god. On another occasion, he 
put to death one of his wives and a slave, drinking their blood 
also, as was his usual practice with his enemies."*— -Disposi- 
tions and practices no less abominable, are regularly exhibited 
in the kingdom of Dahomy, near the Gulph of Guinea. An 
immolation of human victims, for the purpose of watering the 
graves of the king's ancestors, and of supplying them with 
servants of various descriptions in the other world, takes place 
every year, at a grand festival which is held generally in April 
and May, about the period, possibly, when the Bible and Mis- 
sionary Societies of this country are holding their anniversaries. 
The victims are generally prisoners of war, reserved for the 
purpose ; but, should there be lack of these, the number (be- 
tween sixty and seventy) is made up from the most convenient 
of his own subjects. The immolation of victims is not con- 
fined to this particular period ; for at any time, should it be 
necessary to send an account to his forefathers of any remarka- 
ble event, the king despatches a courier to the shades, by de- 
livering a message to whoever may happen to be near him, 
and then ordering his head to be chopped off immediately. It 
is considered an honour where his majesty personally conde- 
scends to become the executioner in these cases; an office in 
which the king prides himself in being expert. The governor 
was present on one occasion, when a poor fellow, whose fear 



* Dupuis' Journal in Ashantee. 



DISPOSITIONS OF SAVAGE NATIONS. 



277 



of death outweighing the sense of the honour conlerred upon 
him, on being desired to carry some message to his father, 
humbly declared on his knees, that he was unacquainted with 
the way. On which the tyrant vociferated "I'll show you the 
way," and, with one blow, made his head fly many yards from 
his body, highly indignant that there should have been the 
least expression of reluctance.* On the thatched roofs of the 
guard-houses which surround the palace of this tyrant, are 
ranged, on wooden stakes, numbers of human skulls ; the top 
of the wall which encloses an area before it, is stuck full of 
human jaw-bones, and the path leading to the door ts paved 
with the skulls. 

In the kingdom of Ashantee, similar practices uniformly 
prevail. "When the king of this country, (says Dupuis) was 
about to open the campaign in Gaman, he collected together 
his priests, to invoke the royal Fetische, and perform the ne- 
cessary orgies to ensure success. These ministers of supersti- 
tion sacrificed thirty-two male, and eighteen female victims, as 
an expiatory offering to the gods ; but the answers from the 
priests being deemed by the council as still devoid of inspira- 
tion, the king was induced to make a custom, at the sepulchres 
of his ancestors, where many hundreds bled. This, it is af- 
rirmed, propitiated the wrath of the adverse god." The same 
king, when he returned, having discovered a conspiracy, de 
creed, that seventeen of his wives, along with his own sister, 
should be strangled and beheaded. "His sister's paramour, 
and all those of his party, were doomed to the most cruel 
deaths, at the grave of the king's mother. While these butche- 
ries were transacting, the king prepared to enter the palace ; 
and in the act of crossing the threshold of the outer gate, was 
met by several of his wives, whose anxiety to embrace their 
sovereign lord impelled them thus to overstep the boundary of 
female decorum in Ashantee ; for it happened that the king 
was accompanied by a number of his captains, who, accord- 
ingly, were compelled to cover their faces with both their 
hands, and fly from the spot. This is said to have angered 
the monarch, although his resentment proceeded no farther 
than words, and he returned the embraces of his wives. But 
another cause of anger soon after occurred, and he was inflam- 
ed to the highest pitch of indignation, and, in a paroxysm of 
anger, caused these unhappy beings to be cut in pieces before 
his face, giving orders, at the same time, to cast the fragments 
into the forest, to be devoured by birds and beasts of prey. 



M'LeocTs Voyage to Africa. 

24 



278 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



Nor did the atonement rest here ; for six more unhappy fe- 
males were impeached of inconstancy, and they also expatiat- 
ed their faults with their lives. Like another Ulysses, his 
majesty then devoted himself to the purification of his palace, 
when, to sum up the full horrors of these bloody deeds, two 
thousand wretches, selected from the Gaman prisoners of war, 
were slaughtered over the royal death-stool, in honour of the 
shades of departed kings and heroes."* 

Such are a few specimens of the ferocious dispositions of 
the petty tyrants of Africa. But we are not to imagine, that 
such dispositions are confined to kings, and to the higher 
ranks of society. Wherever such malevolent passions are 
displayed among barbarous chieftains, they pervade, in a 
greater or less degree, the whole mass of the people, and 
almost every one, in proportion to the power with which he 
is invested, perpetrates similar barbarities. The following 
instance will corroborate this position, and, at the same 
time, show, for how many cruelties and acts of injustice the 
abettors of the infamous traffic in slaves, are accountable. It 
is extracted from Major Gray's u Travels in Africa, in 1824." 

The Kaartan force which the Major accompanied, had made 
107 prisoners, chiefly women and children, in a predator) 
excursion into Bondoo, for the purpose of supplying them 
selves with slaves. The following is an account of the mannei 
in which they were dragged along. " The men were tied in 
pairs by the necks, their hands secured behind their backs ; 
the women by the necks only ; but their hands were not left 
free, from any sense of feeling for them, but in order to ena- 
ble them to balance the immense loads of corn or rice which 
they were obliged to carry on their heads, and their children on 
their backs."— " I had an opportunity," says Major Gray, u of 
witnessing, during this short march, the new-made slaves, and 
the sufferings to which they are subjected in their first state of 
bondage. They were hurried along (tied) at a pace little short 
of running, to enable them to keep up with the horsemen, 
who drove them on, as Smithfield drovers do fatigued bullocks. 
Many of the women were old, and by no means able to endure 
such treatment. One, in particalar, would not have failed to 
excite the tenderest feelings of compassion in the breast of any, 
save a savage African. She was at least sixty years old, in the 
most miserable state of emaciation and debility, nearly doubled 
together, and with difficulty dragging her tottering limbs along. 
To crown the heart-rending picture, she was naked, save from 



DupiuV Mission to Ashantee, in 1823. 



DISPOSITIONS OF SAVAGE NATIONS 



270 



her waist, to about half way to the knees. All this did not 
prevent her inhuman captor from making her carry a heavy 
load of water, while, with a rope about her neck, he drove her 
before his horse ; and whenever she showed the least inclina- 
tion to stop, he beat her in the most unmerciful manner with 
a stick." 

Were \v T e to travel through the whole interior of Africa, and 
round its northern, eastern, and western coasts, we should find, 
among almost every tribe, numerous displays of the most inhu- 
man and depraved dispositions. The Algerincs are charac- 
terized as the most cruel and dangerous pirates — base, perfidi- 
ous, and rapacious, to the last degree. No oaths, nor ties, 
human or divine, will avail to bind them, when their interest 
interferes. Whatever respect they may pretend to pay to 
their prophet Mahomet, gold is the only true idol w T hich 
they worship. The emperors of Morocco are well know r n as 
a set of rapacious and blood-thirsty tyrants, who have lived in a 
state of habitual warfare with Christian nations, and in the per- 
petration of deeds of injustice and cruelty. The Gallas, on the 
borders of Abyssinia, are a barbarous and warlike nation. 
They are hardy, and of a ferocious disposition ; they are 
trained to the love of desperate achievements, taught to believe 
that conquest entitles them to the possession of whatever they 
desire, and tc look upon death with the utmost contempt ; and, 
therefore, in their wars, they fight with the most desperate 
resolution, and neither give nor take any quarter. The inha- 
bitants of Adel, too, are of a warlike disposition, and most fre- 
quently live in enmity and hostility with those around them. 
The Feloops are gloomy and unforgiving in their tempers, 
thirsting for vengeance even in the hour of dissolution, and 
leaving their children to avenge their quarrels. The inhabit- 
ants of the Grain Coast, especially the Mulattoes, are said to 
be a most abondoned set of people. The men are drunkards, 
lewd, thievish, and treacherous, and the women are the most 
abandoned prostitutes, sacrificing themselves at all times, and 
to all sorts of men, without the least degree of restraint.* The 
natives of Ansico, which borders on Angola, live by plunder- 
ing all who happen to fall in their way, some of whom they 
kill, and others they keep as slaves. f " The Boshemen are 
land pirates, who live without laws and without discipline ; 
who lurk in thickets, to watch the passage of travellers, and 
shoot them with poisoned arrows, in order to seize their cat- 
tle.":); 44 The negroes of Congo, (says M. de la Brosse in his 

* Cooke's Universal Geography, Vol. I. p. 447. tlbid. 
"f Vailant's Travels. 



280 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 



Travels along the coast of Angola, in 1738,) are extremely 
treacherous and vindictive. They daily demanded oi us some 
brandy for the use of the king and the chief men of the town. 
One day this request was denied and we had soon reason to 
repent it; for all the English and French officers having gone 
to fish on a small lake near the sea-coast, they erected a tent 
for the purpose of dressing and eating the fishes they had 
caught. When amusing themselves after their repast, seven 
or eight negroes, who were the chiefs of Loango, arrived in 
sedans, and presented their hands according to the custom of 
the country. These negroes privately rubbed the hands of the 
officers with a subtle poison ? which acts instantaneously ; and, 
accordingly, five captains and three surgeons died on the 
spot." 

The Moors are characterized by Mr. Park as having cruelty 
and low cunning pictured on their countenances. Their trea- 
chery and malevolence are manifested in their plundering ex- 
cursions against the Negro villages. Without the smallest 
provocation, and sometimes under the fairest professions of 
friendship, tliey will seize npon the Negroes' cattle, and even 
on the inhabitants themselves. The Bedovins are plunderers 
of the cultivated lands, and robbers on the high roads; they 
watch every opportunity of revenging their enemies,, and their 
animosities are transmitted as an inheritance from father to 
children. Even the Egyptians, who are more civilized than 
the tribes to which I have now alluded, are characterized by 
excessive pride, vindictive tempers, inordinate passions and 
various species of moral turpitude. There is a trait in the 
character of the women of this country, pointedly adverted to 
by Sonini, in his " Travels in Egypt," which is particularly 
odious and horrible. On discovering any partiality in their 
husbands for other females, they are transported into an un-> 
bounded and jealous fury. Such are their deceit and cruelty 
on these occasions, that they instil into the blood of their faith- 
less husband, a slow and mortal poison. Their revenge is 
meditated in silence, and they indulge the diabolical satisfac- 
tion of taking off an unhappy being by a lingering death. It 
is said, with confidence, that their own persons supply the 
horrid means of perpetraling their malicious designs on their 
husbands, and that they mix with their aliment a certain por- 
tion of an ingredient of a poisonous nature, which infallibly 
induces a slow langour and consumption, and in time brings 
the wretched victims to the grave. The symptoms are dread-* 
ful. The body desicates, the limbs become excessively weak, 
the gums rot, the teeth loosen, the hair falls off, and, ft 



DISPOSITIONS OF SAVAGE NATIONS. 



281 



length, after having dragged a miserable and tortured exist- 
ence, for a whole year or more, the unhappy beings die in the 
most extreme torment. 

If we pass from Africa to the regions of Asia, we shall find 
similar depraved principles and practices pervading its several 
tribes, and the various ranks of its population. Here, tyran- 
ny, in all its degrading and cruel forms, reigns supreme and 
uncontrolled over a superstitious, a deluded, nnd an idolatrous 
race of mankind, — of which the following recent instances, in 
relation to a petty despot of Persia, may serve as a specimen. 
" The governor Zulfecar Khun is pronounced to be a cruel and 
unprincipled tyrant ; unfortunately for the people, he has the 
ear of the sovereign, and they have no resource against his 
rapacity. He pays to the crown 7000 tomauns a year, but it if 
asserted, that he collects from the district 100,000. His op- 
pression was so grievous, that the inhabitants, wearied out, 
went in a body to the king to complain ; but his majesty only 
referred them back to their tyrant, who, exasperated at their 
boldness, wreaked upon them a cruel vengeance. It is said, 
that he maimed and put to death upwards of a thousand of both 
sexes, cutting off the hands, putting out the eyes, and other- 
wise mutilating the men, and cutting off the noses, ears, and 
breasts of the women. The people, desponding and broken- 
hearted after this, paid, in as far as they were able, the rapa- 
cious demands of their oppressor, and the natural consequence, 
ruin and desolation has ensued."* 

Sir John Chardin gives us the following account of the in- 
habitants of Mingrelia, particularly of the women. " The 
people are generally handsome, the men strong and well-made, 
and the women very beautiful ; but both sexes are very vicious 
and debauched. The women, though lively, civil, and affec- 
tionate, are very perfidious ; for there is no wickedness which 
they will not perpetrate, in order to procure, to preserve, or to 
get rid of their gallants. The men likewise possess many bad 
qualities. All of them are trained to robbery, which they 
study both as a business, and as an amusement. With great 
satisfaction they relate the depredations they have committed ; 
and, from this polluted source, they derive their greatest praise 
and honour. In Mingrelia, falsehood, assassination, and theft, 
are good actions ; and whoredom, bigamy, and incest, are es- 
teemed as virtuous habits. The men marry two or three 
wives at a time, and keep as many concubines as they choose. 
They not only make a common practice of selling their chih 



*Frazer-s Journey to Khorasan, 1823L 
24* 



282 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION* 



dren, either for gold, or in exchange for wares and provisions! 
but even murder them, or bury them alive, when they find it 
difficult to bring them up." 

The Tartars, who occupy vast regions of the Asiatic con- 
tinent, are uniformly described by travellers, as a rude, plun- 
dering, and uncultivated race of men. " There is something 
frightful," says Smellie, "in the countenances of the Calmuck 
Tartars. All of them are wandering vagabonds, and live in 
tents made of cloth or of skins. They eat the flesh of horses, 
either raw, or a little softened by putrifying under their sad- 
dles. No marks of religion, or of decency in their manners, 
are to be found among most of these tribes. They are fierce, 
warlike, hardy, and brutally gross. They are all robbers ; 
and the Tartars of Daghestan, who border on civilized nations, 
have a great trade in slaves, whom they carry off by force, and 
sell to the Persians and Turks."* 

The Arabians, like the Tartars, live mostly without govern- 
ment, without law, and almost without any social intercourse. 
They still continue in a state of rudeness and of lawless inde* 
pendency. Their chiefs authorize rape, theft, and robbery 
They have no estimation for virtue, and glory in almost every 
species of vice. They roam about in the deserts, and attack 
caravans and travellers of every description, whom they fre- 
quently murder, and plunder of their property. — The Chinese, 
though more highly civilized than the tribes now mentioned, 
and though they merit great applause for their ingenuity, in- 
dustry, and perseverance, are as despicable in their moral 
characters^ and as destitute of true benevolence, as almost any 
nation upon earth. Avarice is their leading passion ; and in 
order to gratify it, they practise every species of duplicity and 
fraud. They cannot be influenced by motives either of hon- 
esty or of humanity ; and they surpass every nation on the 
globe in private cheating. Captain Cook observes, that (the 
danger of beina hanged for any crime being excepted) "there 
is nothing, however infamous, which the Chinese will refuse 
to do for gain." In this opinion he concurs with every pre- 
ceding and subsequent writer, and confirms it by a variety of 
striking proofs, of which an additional number may be seen in 
the accounts which have been published of our late embassies 
to that empire. 

The Birmans are a lively inquisitive race, active, irascible, 
and impatient. While in peace, they give proofs of a certain 
degree of gentleness and civilization ; in war. they display the 

Smcllie's Philosophy of Natural History. 



DISPOSITIONS OF SAVAGE NATIONS. 



283 



ferocity of savages. — The Malays, though inhabiting a country 
beautiful and delightful in the extreme, where refreshing gales 
and cooling streams assuage the heat, where the soil teems 
with delicious fruits, where the trees are clothed with a con- 
tinual verdure, and the flowers breathe their fragrant odours, 
are remarkably ferocious in their manners. They go always 
armed(except the slaves, )and would think themselves disgraced, 
if they went abroad without their poignards. The inland in- 
habitants of Malacca, called Monucahoes, are a barbarous 
savage people, delighting in doing continual mischief to their 
neighbours; on which account, no grain is sown about Malac- 
ca, but what is enclosed in gardens, with the thickest hedges, 
or deep ditches ; for when the grain is ripe in the open plains, 
the Monucaboes never fail to set fire to it. The Persians, in 
their dispositions, says Mr, Franklin, are much inclined to 
sudden anger, are quick, fiery, and very sensible of affronts, 
which they resent on the spot. Chardin describes them as 
"warlike, vain, and ambitious of praise; exceedingly luxuri- 
ous, prodigal, voluptuous, and addicted to gallantry." It is 
well known that the wars and fiend-Jike cruelties in which the 
despots of this country have been engaged, have transformed 
many of its provinces into scenes of sterility and desolation. — 
The Hindoos are effeminate, luxurious, and early initiated into 
the arts of dissimulation. They can caress those whom they 
hate, and behave with the utmost affability and kindness to 
such as they intend to deprive of existence, by the most san- 
guinary means. Though they seldom scold or wrangle, they 
often stab each other insidiously, and, without any public quar- 
rel, gratify a private revenge. The destruction of infants, the 
immolation of widows, the drowning of aged parents, which 
prevail among them, and the cruel and idolatrous rites which 
distinguish their religious services, are too well known to re- 
quire description. — The Turks, though grave, sedate, and 
rather hypocondriac, yet when agitated by passion, are furious, 
raging, ungovernable, fraught with dissimulation, jealous, suspi- 
cious, and vindictive beyond conception. They are supersti- 
tious, and obstinately tenacious in matters of religion, and are 
incapable of exercising benevolence or even humanity towards 
Christians, or towards Jews. Interest is their supreme good, 
and, when that comes in competition, all ties of religion, con- 
sanguinity, or friendship, are with the generality, speedily dis- 
solved. They have deprived of their liberty, and of their 
wealth, all who have been subjected to their iron sceptre, 
and have plunged them into the depths of moral and of men- 
tal debasement. The page of history is filled with details of 



284 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



their devastations and cruelties, and the deeds of injustice and 
of horror which they have perpetrated, even in our own 
times, are scarcely equalled by the atrocities of the most 
savage hordes of mankind. 

If we take a survey of the numerous tribes which inhabit the 

ISLANDS OF THE INDIAN AND THE PACIFIC OCEANS, We shall 

find similar depraved and malevolent passions, raging without 
control, and producing all those malignant and desolating ef- 
fects which have counteracted the benevolence of the Creator, 
and entailed misery on the human race. The dismal effects 
of the principle of hatred directed towards human beings, the 
disposition to engage in continual warfare, and the savage fe- 
rocity of the human mind, when unrestrained by moral and 
prudential considerations, are nowhere so strikingly displayed* 
as in the isles which are scattered throughout the wide expanse 
of the Pacific Ocean. Of the truth of these positions we have 
abundance of melancholy examples, in the reports of mis- 
sionaries, and in the journals which have been published by 
late navigators, from which I shall select only two or three 
examples. 

The first instance I shall produce, has a relation chiefly to 
the inhabitants of Neiv Zealand. With respect to these isl- 
anders Captain Cook remarks, "Their public contentions are 
frequent, or rather perpetual; for, it appears from their num- 
ber of weapons, and dexterity in using them, that war is their 
principal profession." — "The war-dance consists of a great 
variety of violent motions, and hideous contortions of the 
limbs, during which the countenance also performs a part : 
the tongue is frequently thrust out to an incredible length, and 
the eye-lid so forcibly drawn up, that the w 7 hite appears both 
above and below, as well as on each side of the iris, so as to 
form a circle around it ; nor is any thing neglected so as to 
render the human shape frightful and deformed. To such as 
have not been accustomed to such a practice, they appear more 
like demons than men, and would almost chill the boldest 
with fear ; at the same time they brandish their spears, shake 
their darts, and cleave the air with their patoo-patoos. To 
this succeeds a circumstance almost foretold in their fierce de- 
meanour, horrid and disgraceful to human nature, which is, 
cutting to pieces, even before being perfectly dead, the bodies 
of their enemies ; and, after dressing them on a fire, devouring 
the flesh, not only without reluctance, but with peculiar satis- 
faction." There is perhaps nothing that can convey a more 
striking idea of the actions of pure malevolence, and of the 
horrible rage and fury of infernal fiends, than the picture here 
presented of these savage islanders. 



DISPOSITIONS OF THE NEW ZEALANDERS. 



285 



These people live under perpetual apprehensions of being 
destroyed by each other; there being few of their tribes that 
have not, as they think, sustained wrongs from some other 
tribe, which they are continually on the watch to avenge ; and 
the desire of a good meal is no small incitement. Many years 
Will sometimes elapse before a favourable opportunity happens, 
yet the son never loses sight of an injury that has been done 
to his father. — "Their method of executing their horrible de- 
signs is by stealing upon the adverse party in the night, and if 
they find them unguarded (which is very seldom the case) they 
kill every one indiscriminately, not even sparing the women 
and children. When the massacre is completed, they either 
feast and gor^e themselves on the spot, or carry -off as many 
of the dead bodies as they can, and devour them at home, with 
acts of brutality too shocking to be described. If they are dis- 
covered before they execute their bloody purpose, they gene- 
rally steal off again; and sometimes are pursued and attacked by 
the other party in their turn. To give quarter, or to take pri- 
soners, makes no part of their military law ; so that the van 
quished can save their lives only by flight. This perpetual state 
of war, and destructive method of conducting it, operates so 
strongly in producing habits of circumspection, that one hardly 
ever finds a New Zealander off his guard, either by night or by 
day."* — While the mind is kept in a such a state of incessant 
anxiety and alarm, it must be impossible for human beings to 
taste the sweets of rational, or even of sensitive enjoyment. A 
melancholy gloom must hang over these wretched beings, and 
the dark suspicions, and the revengeful passions which agitate 
their minds, can only lit them for those regions of darkness 
where the radiations of benevolence are completely extin 
guished. 

The implacable hatred which these savages entertain to-, 
wards each other, is illustrated, in the following short narra- 
tive from Captain Cook.— " Among our occasional visitors was 
a chief named Kahoora*, who, as I was informed, headed the 
party that cut off Captain Furneaux's people, and himself 
killed Mr. Rowe, the officer who commanded. To judge of the 
character of Kahoora, by what I had heard from many of his 
countrymen, he seemed to be more feared than beloved among 
them. Not satisfied with telling me that he was a very bad man t 
some of them even impoi tuned me to kill him: and, I believe* 
they were not a little surprised that I did not listen to them; 
for, according to their ideas of equity, this ouoht to have been 
done. But if I had followed the ad vice of all our pretended 



* Cook's Voyages. 



286 



THE PHILOSOPHY Oi? RELIGION. 



friends, I might have extirpated the whole race ; for the people 
of each hamlet or village, by turns, applied to me, to destroy 
the other. One would have almost thought it impossible, thai 
so striking a proof of the divided state in which this people live, 
could have, been assigned." 

Similar dispositions are displayed throughout almost all the 
other islands of the Southern Ocean. The following descrip 
tion is given by M. de la Percuse, of the inhabitants of 
Maouna Oyolava, and the other islands in the Navigator's 
Archipelago. " Their native ferocity of countenance always 
expresses either surprise or anger. The least dispute between 
them is followed by blows of sticks, clubs, or paddles, and of- 
ten, without doubt, costs the combatants their lives." With 
regard to the women, he remarks: 44 The gross effrontery of 
their conduct, the indecency of their motions, and the disgust- 
ing offers which they made of their favours, rendered them fit 
mothers and wives for the ferocious beings that surrounded us." 
The treachery and ferocity of these savages were strikingly dis- 
played in massacring M. de Langle, the astronomer, and eleven 
of the crew that belonged to Perouse ? s vessel, and such was 
their fierce barbarity, that, after having killed them, they still 
continued to wreck their fury upon the inanimate bodies with 
their clubs. The natives of New Caledonia are a race of a si- 
milar description. Though Captain Cook describes them as 
apparently a good natured sort of people, yet subsequent navi- 
gators have found them to be almost the very reverse of what 
he described ; as ferocious in the extreme, addicted to canni 
balism, and to every barbarity shocking to human nature. The 
French navigator, Admiral D'Entrecasteaux, in his intei course 
with these people, received undoubted proofs of their savage 
disposition, and of their being accustome d to feed on human 
flesh. Speaking of one of the natives, who had visited his ship, 
and had described the various practices connected with canni- 
balism, he says, — "It is difficult to depict the ferocious avidity 
with which he expressed to us, that the flesh of their unfortu- 
nate victims was devoured by them after they had broiled it on 
the coals. This cannibal also le t us know, that the flesh of the 
arms and legs was cut into slices, and that they considered the 
most muscular parts a very agreeable dish. It was then easy 
for us to explain, why they frequently felt our arms and legs, 
manifesting a violent longing; they then uttered a faint whis- 
tling, which they produced by closing their teeth, and applying 
to them the tip of the tongue ; afterwards opening their mouth, 
they smacked their lips several times in succession." 

The characters of the islanders now described, may be con- 



DISPOSITIONS OF THE NEW ZEAL ANDERS. 287 



sidered as common to the inhabitants of the New Hebrides, the 
Friendly Islands, the Marquesas, the Sandwich, New Guinea, 
New Britain, the Ladrones, and almost all the islands which 
are dispersed over the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean. 
Captain Cook, when describing the natives of New Zealand, 
remarks, that, " the inhabitants of the other parts of the South 
Seas have not even the idea of indecency with respect to any 
object, or to any action." The inhabitants even of the Socie- 
ty and of the Sandwich Isles, prior to the state of moral and 
religious improvement to which they have lately advanced, 
though their dispositions were somewhat milder than those of 
the other islands — were almost equally low in point of moral 
debasement. Captain Cook, speaking of the natives of Oia- 
heite, declares, "They are all arrant thieves, and can pick 
pockets with the dexterity of the most expert London -black- 
guard."* When describing the societies distinguished by the 
name of Arreoy, he declares , as a characteristic of the female 
part of the community, "If any of the women happen to be 
with child, which in this manner of life, happens less frequently 
than in ordinary cases, the poor infant is smothered the mo- 
ment it is born, that it may be no incumbrance to the father, 
nor interrupt the mother in the pleasures of her diabolical 
prostitution."! Another circumstance, stated by the same 
navigator, exhibits their former moral character in a still more 
shocking point of view. On the approach of war with any of 
the neighbouring islands, or on other interesting occasions, 
human sacrifices were a universal practice. " When I describ- 
ed," says this illustrious voyager, " the Natibe at Tongabatoo, 
I mentioned, that, on the approaching sequel of that festival, 
we had been told that ten men were to be sacrificed. This 
may give us an idea of the extent of this religious massacre on 
that island. And though we should suppose, that never more 
than one person is sacrificed on any single occasion at Ota- 
heite, it is more than probable, that these occasions happen 
so frequently, as to make a shocking waste of the human race; 
for I counted no less than forty-nine skulls of former victims, 
lying before the Morai, where we saw one more added to the 
number. And, as none of these skulls had, as yet, suffered 
any considerable change from the weather, it may hence be 
inferred, that no great length of time had elapsed, since this 
considerable number of unhappy wretches had been offered on 
this altar of blood. "| He also informs us, that human sacri- 
fices were more frequent in the Sandwich than in any of tho 



* Hawkesworth's Narrative of Cook's Voyages, Vol. II 
t Ibid. X lbid - 



288 



The philosophy *>f religion. 



other islands. 44 These horrid rites," says he, 44 are not only- 
had recourse to upon the commencement of war, and preced- 
ing great battles, aud other signal enterprises; but the death 
of any considerable chief calls for a sacrifice of one or more 
Toiotows, (that is, vulgar or low persons, according to his rank; 
and we were told that ten men vvti.e destined to suffer on the 
death of Terreeoboo, one of their great chiefs.* 

Such are a few specimens of the moral dispositions— the 
hatred, the horrid warfare, and the abominable practices, 
which are displayed over the greater portion of the Eastern 
and Western Continents, and among the thousands of islands 
which diversify the surface of the Ocean — dispositions and 
practices, which, if permitted to extend their influence univer- 
sally, and without control, would soon extirpate the intelligent 
creation, and banish happiness from the Empire of God. 

WARLIKE ATTITUDE OF NATIONS. 

Were Benevolence a characteristic of the inhabitants of our 
globe, every traveller would be secure from danger from his 
fellow-men ; he might land on every shore without the least 
suspicion or alarm, and confidently expect that his distresses 
would be relieved, and his wants supplied, by every tribe of 
the human race among whom he might occasionally sojourn. 
No hostile weapons would be lifted up to repel a stranger, 
when gratifying his curiosity in visiting distant lands, and 
contemplating foreign scenes ; and no instruments of destruc- 
tion would require to be forged, to preserve a nation from 
the inroads of destroyers. But when we survey the actual 
state of mankind, we find almost every nation under heaven, 
if not actually engaged in war, at least in a warlike attitude, 
and one of their chief employments consists in devising 
schemes, either of conquest or revenge, and in furbishing the 
instruments of death. The following instances may suffice, 
as illustrations of this position. 

The armies of Ashantee, saysDupuis, amount to upwards 
of eighty thousand men, armed with tomahawks, lances, 
knives, javelins, bows, and arrows ; and forty thousand, who 
can occasionally be put in possession of muskets and blunder- 
busses. — The opposing armies of Moslem and Dinheru, 
amounted at times to 140,000 men.— The King of Dahomy, 
and his auxiliaries, can raise about 50,000 men, armed with 
bows and arrows, sabres, and iron maces. — The king of 

* Hawkcsworth's Narrative of Cook's Voyages, Vol. II. 



WARLIKE ATtlTtJDE OP NATIONS. 



289 



Benin can arm 200,000, upon an emergency, and furnish 
10,000 of them with muskets. In those countries of Africa, 
where fire-arms and gunpowder are unknown, they wield the 
following kinds of arms with great dexterity and execution 
These are, very strong supple lances, which are barbed and 
poisoned, targets, bows and arrows, tomahawks, and iron 
maces; the former of which they are in the practice of poi- 
soning with a venom more deadly than that which is used by 
any other nation, as its operation is said to be sometimes in- 
stantaneous, and its wound, though ever so slight, usually 
produces death within the lapse of a few minutes.* 

Such is the warlike disposition displayed by a few compa- 
ratively insignificant tribes in Africa, and similar dispositions 
are manifested, and similar attitudes assumed, by almost all 
the tribes which inhabit that vast continent. Their time, and 
their physical and mental exertions, seem to be spent much in 
war, and in the preparation of warlike instruments, as if these 
were the great ends for which the Creator had brought them 
into existence. If the ingenuity and the energies displayed 
in such preparations and pursuits, were employed in opera- 
tions calculated to promote the benefit of mankind, what an 
immense proportion of happiness would be distributed among 
numerous tribes which are just now sunk into depravity, and 
into the depths of wretchedness and wo ! 

Pallas, in his description of the nations inhabiting the 
Caucasus, when speaking of the Circassians, says, " Per 
sons of wealth and rank never leave the house without a 
sabre, nor do they venture beyond the limits of the village 
without being completely arrayed, and having their breast 
pockets supplied with ball cartridges." In regard to the 
low 7 er class, " when they do not carry a sabre, with other 
arms, they provide themselves with a strong staff, two ar- 
shines long, on the top of which is fixed a large iron head, 
and the lower end is furnished with a sharp iron pike, about 
eighteen inches long, which they are accustomed to throw ex- 
pertly, like a dart. The Princes and Knights pursue no other 
business or recreation than war, pillage, and the amusements 
of the chase ; they live a lordly life, wander about, meet at 
drinking parties, and undertake military excursions." Among 
these people, " the desire of revenge, for injuries received, is 
hereditary in the successors, and in the whole tribe. It re- 
mains, as it were, rooted with so much rancour, that the hos- 
tile princes or nobles of two different tribes, when they meet 

* Dupuis' " Mission to Ashantee, in 1823." 
25 



290 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



each other on the road, or accidentally in another place, are 
compelled to fight for their lives; unless they have given pre- 
vious notice to each other, and bound themselves to pursue a 
different route. Unless pardon be purchased, or obtained by 
intermarriage between the two families, the principle of re 
venge is propagated to all succeeding generations."* 

It is well known, that in almost all the islands in the Indian 
and the Southern Oceans, when navigators attempt to land, 
in order to procure water and provisions, they are almost 
uniformly opposed by crowds of ferocious savages, armed with 
long spears, clubs, lances, bows and arrows ; and, with horrid 
yells, brandishing them in the most hostile attitudes. In some 
instances, these warlike attitudes might be accounted for, from 
a fear of the depredations and murders which might be com- 
mitted by strangers, with whose dispositions and characters 
they are unacquainted. But the implacable hatred which 
they manifest towards even the neighbouring tribes, with 
•which they are acquainted, and of which I have already stated 
several instances, shows, that war, revenge, and the prepara- 
tion of the instruments of death, are both their employment, 
and their delight. Yea, not only savage and half-civilized 
tribes, but almost every civilized nation on the face of the 
earth, is found in a hostile attitude with respect to surround- 
ing nations — either actually engaged in a deadly warfare with 
a foreign power, or preparing for an attack, or keeping up 
fleets and standing armies, and forging cannons, and balls, 
and swords, in the prospect of a rupture with neighbouring 
states. And in such deadly preparations and employments, a 
great proportion of those treasures is expended, which, if di- 
rected by the hand of Benevolence, would be the means of 
transforming the wilderness into a fruitful field, of distributing 
intelligence and moral principle among all ranks, and of 
making the hearts of the poor, the widow, and the orphan, 
"to leap for joy." What a pitiful picture is here presented of 
Man, who was originally formed after the image of his Maker, 
for the purpose of displaying benevolent affections towards 
his fellows, — now divided into hostile tribes, and brandishing, 
with infernal fury, at all around, the instruments of destruc- 
tion ! How art thou fallen, O Man, from thy original station 
of dignity and honour ! 44 How is the gold become dim, and 
the most fine gold changed ! The crown is fallen from our 
heads ; wo unto us, for we have sinned !" 

* Pallas 44 Travels through the Southern Provinces of the Russian 
Fmpire," Voi. II. pp. 401, 405. 



INHUMANITY OF UNCIVILIZED TRIBES TO UNFORTUNATE 
TRAVELLERS. 

In passing through the scene of his earthly pilgrimage, Man 
is exposed to a variety of distresses and dangers. Sometimes 
he is exposed to 44 the pestilence that walketh in darkness,'* 
and to the fever " that wasteth at noon-day." Sometimes he 
is exposed to the desolations of the earthquake and the vol- 
cano ; the blasts of the tempest, the hurricane, and the torna- 
do, and the billows of the stormy ocean ; and, at other times, 
he is exposed to the attacks of the lion, the tiger, and the 
hyena, in the dark recesses of the forest. It would be well, 
however, with man, were these the only evils and enemies 
which he had to encounter. But the greatest enemy which 
man has to encounter, is Man himself — those who are parta- 
kers of the same nature, and destined to the same immortal 
existence ; and from these kindred beings, he is exposed to 
evils and distresses, imcomparably greater and more numerous, 
than all the evils which he suffers from the ravenous beasts 
of the forest, or from the fury of the raging elements. It is a 
most melancholy reflection, that, throughout the greater part 
of the habitable world, no traveller can prosecute his journey, 
without being in hazard either of being dragged into captivity, 
or insulted and maltreated, or plundered of his treasures, or 
deprived of his life, by those who ought to be his friends and 
protectors. After he has eluded the pursuit of the lion or the 
wolf, or after he has escaped, with difficulty, from th<? jaws of 
the devouring deep, he is frequently exposed to the fury of 
demons in human shape, who insult over his misfortunes, in- 
stead of relieving the wants of his body, and soothing the an- 
guish of his mind. The following relations, among a nu- 
merous series which might be presented to the view of the 
reader, will tend to illustrate these remarks. 

My first example shall be taken from the " Narrative of the 
Loss of the Grosvenor Indiaman." This vessel sailed from 
Trincomalee, June 13th, 1782, on her homeward-bound voy- 
age, and was wrecked on the coast of Cafiraria, on the 4th of 
August following. It is needless to dwell* on the circumstances 
which attended the shipwreck, and on the consternation, dis- 
traction, and despair, which seized upon the passengers and 
the crew, when they became alive to all the terrors of the 
scene. Shipwreek, even in its mildest form, is a calamity 
which never fails to fill the mind with horror ; but what is 
instant death, considered as a temporary evil, compared with 



292 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



the situation of those who had hunger, and thirst, and naked- 
ness, to contend with; who only escaped the fury of the 
waves, to enter into conflicts with the savages of the forest, 
or the still greater savages of the human race ; who were cut 
off from all civilized society, and felt the prolongation of life 
to be only the lengthened pains of death ? 

After losing about twenty men, in their first attempts to 
land, the remaining part of the crew and the passengers, in 
number about a hundred, after encountering many difficulties 
and dansr ers, reached the shore. Next morning a thousand 
uneasy sensations were produced, from the natives having 
come down to the shore, and, without ceremony, carried off 
whatever suited their fancy. They were at this time about 
447 leagues from the Cape of Good Hope, and 226 beyond 
the limits of any Christian habitation. Their only resource 
appeared to be, to direct their course by land to the Cape, or 
to the nearest Dutch settlement. As they moved forward, 
they were followed by some of the natives, who, instead of 
showing compassion to this wretched groupe, plundered them 
from time to time, of what they liked, and sometimes pelted 
them with stones. In this way they pursued their journey 
for four or five days ; during which the natives constantly sur- 
rounded them in the day, taking from them whatever they 
pleased, but invariably retired in the night. As they proceed- 
ed, they saw many villages, which they carefully avoided, 
that they might be less exposed to the insults of the natives. 
At last, they came to a deep gully* where three of the CafTres 
met them, armed with lances, which they held several times 
to the captain's throat. Next day, on coming to a large vil- 
lage, they found these three men, with three or four hundred 
of their countrymen, all armed with lances and targets, who 
stopped the English, and began to pilfer and insult them, and 
at last fell upon them and beat them. With these inhuman 
wretches they had to engage in a kind of running fight for 
upwards of two hours; after which, they cut the buttons from 
their coats, and presented them to the natives, on which, they 
went away and returned no more. The following night they 
were terrified with the noise of the wild beasts, and kept con 
stant watch for fear both of them and the natives. How 
dreadful a situation, especially for those delicate ladies and 
children, who had so lately been acccustomed to all the deli 
eacies of the East I Next day, as they were advancing, a party 
of natives came down upon them, and plundered them, among 
other things, of their tinder-box, flint and steel, which proved 
an irreparable loss. Every man was now obliged to travel, by 



INHUMANITY TO SHIPWRECKED MARINERS. 293 

turns, with a fire-brand in his hand ; and before the natives 
retired, they showed more insolence than ever, robbing the 
gentlemen of their watches, and the ladies of their jewels, 
which they had secreted in their hair. Opposition was vain ; 
the attempt only brought fresh insults or blows. 

This group of wretched wanderers now separated into dif- 
ferent parties ; and took different directions ; their provisions 
were nearly exhausted ; and the delay occasioned by travel- 
ling with the women and children was very great. Their 
difficulties increased, as they proceeded on their journey ; they 
had numerous rivers, sometimes nearly two miles in breadth, 
to swim across in the course of their route, while the women 
and children were conveyed across on floating stages, at the 
imminent hazard of their lives, and of being carried down by 
the impetuous current into the sea. Whole days were spent 
in tracing the rivers towards their source, in order to obtain a 
ford. They traversed vast plains of sand, and bleak and bar- 
ren deserts, where nothing could be found to alleviate their 
hunger, nor the least drop of water to quench their raging 
thirst. They passed through deep forests, where human feet 
had never trod, where nothing was heard but the dreadful 
howlings of wild beasts, which filled them with alarm and de- 
spair. Wild sorrel, berries which the birds had picked at, 
and a few shell-fish which they occasionally picked up on the 
shore, were the only food which they had to subsist on for 
several days ; and on some occasions the dead body of a seal, 
or the putrid carcass of a whale, was hailed as a delicious treat 
to their craving appetites. One person fell after another into 
the arms of death, through hunger, fatigue, and despair, and 
were sometimes obliged to be left in the agonies of dissolution, 
as a prey to ravenous beasts, or to the fowls of heaven. The 
following circumstance shows the dreadful situation to. which 
they were reduced for want of food. 44 It appeared that the 
captain's steward had been buried in the sand of the last de- 
sert they had passed, and that the survivors were reduced to 
such extremity, that, after he had been interred, they sent 
back t wo of their companions to cut off part of his flesh ; but 
while they proceeded in this horrid business, they had the good 
fortune to discover a young seal, newly driven on shore, 
which proved a most seasonable relief." 

Imagination cannot form a scene of deeper distress than 
what the tender sex, and the little children must, in such a 
case, have experienced. It harrows up the very soul to think 
what pangs those delicate females who had so lately been in- 
ured to all the pleasures and luxuries of India, must have en- 

25* 



294 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



dured, when they were fain to appease their craving appetites 
on the putrid carcass of a whale, and were obliged to repose 
on the bare ground, amidst the howlings of the tempest, and 
the more dismal yells of the beasts of prey. But, amidst this 
heart-rending scene, their fellow-men, who ought to have been 
their soothers and protectors; and who had it in their power 
to have alleviated their distresses, were the greatest enemies 
they had to encounter ; and their appearance filled their minds 
with greater alarm than if they had beheld a roaring lion, or a 
raging bear. The following are some specimens of the per- 
fidy and inhumanity of the natives. Tn passing through a vil- 
lage, one of the company observing, " that a traffic would not 
be unacceptable, offered them the inside of his watch for a 
calf; but though they assented to the terms, no sooner had 
they obtained the price, than they withheld the calf, and drove 
the English from their village." In the same manner were 
they used on many other occasions. One time, when resting 
at a village, where the natives offered no particular resistance, 
" they produced two bowls of milk, which they seemed willing 
to barter, but as our wretched countymen had nothing to give 
in exchange, they denied them this humble boon without an 
equivalent, and ate it up themselves." At the same place, 
they implored in the most impressive terms, to partake with 
the natives of the spoils of a deer, which they had just killed, 
but they turned a deaf ear to their solicitations, and insisted 
moreover, on their quitting the kraal. On another occasion, 
"on coming to a large village, the inhabitants set upon them 
with such fury, that several were severely wounded, and one of 
them died soon after." 

In this manner, did the wretched remains of these hapless 
wanderers traverse the wilds of Africa, during the spaee of 
one hundred and seventeen days, till they accidentally met 
with some Dutch settlers, when within 400 miles of the Cape. 
Here they were treated with the kindest attention, and their 
wants relieved. But, by this time, only 15 or 20 emaciated 
beings survived, out of more than 120 persons who were on 
board the Grosvenor. What became of the captain and his 
party is still unknown. Some are supposed to have perished 
from hunger, some through grief and fatigue, and others to 
have been killed by the inhospitable natives. — Now, all the 
accumulated miseries endured by these unfortunate travellers, 
and the premature death of nearly a hundred persons, are to 
be attributed to that spirit of selfishness, inhumanity, and hos- 
tility, which, in all ages, has prevented enjoyment, and entail- 
ed misery on the human race. Had a principle of love to 



INHUMANITY TO SHIPWRECKED MARINERS. 



295 



mankind pervaded the hearts of the wretched CafFres, or had 
even the common feelings of humanity been exercised towards 
their fellow-creatures in distress, the whole of the unfortunate 
individuals that perished in Africa's iuhospitable clime, might 
have been conducted in safety to their friends and their native 
land. 

My next example is taken from M. De Brisson's 44 Narra- 
tive of his shipwreck, and captivity among the Moors.'* 

M. Brisson was shipwrecked on the coast of Barbary, on 
the 10th July, 1785, and, after much difficulty and danger, he, 
along with the crew, escaped safe to land. No sooner had 
they reached the shore, than they were surrounded by a crowd 
of savages, and seized by the collars. 44 The Arabs," says M. 
Brisson, "armed with cutlasses and large clubs, fell upon my 
companions with incredible ferocity ; and I had the mortifica- 
tion of soon seeing some of them wounded, whilst others, 
stripped and naked, lay stretched out and expiring on the 
sand. The news of our shipwreck being spread abroad 
through the country, we saw the savages running with the 
greatest eagerness from all quarters. The women, enraged 
that they could not pillage the ship, threw themselves upon us, 
and tore from us the few articles of dress which we had left. 
While they went to the shore to obtain more plunder, a com- 
pany of Ouadelims discovered and pillaged our retreat, and 
beat us in the most unmerciful manner, till I was almost at 
the last gasp. My mind was so much affected that I could 
not refrain from tears : and some of the women having ob- 
served it, instead of being moved with compassion, threw sand 
in my eyes, 6 to dry up my tears,' as they expressed it." M. 
Brisson was forced, by these rude barbarians, into the interior 
of the country, as a captive. 44 After passing," says he, 
" mountains of a prodigious height, which were covered with 
small sharp flints, I found that the soles of my feet were en- 
tirely covered with blood. I was permitted to get up behind 
my master on his camel ; but as I was naked, I could not se- 
cure myself from the friction of the animal's hair, so that in a 
very little time my skin was entirely rubbed off. My blood 
trickled down over the animal's sides, and this sight, instead 
of moving the pity of these barbarians, afforded them a subject 
of diversion. They sported with my sufferings ; and that 
their enjoyments might be still higher, they spurred on their 
camels." After travelling for sixteen days, during which 
they were exposed to the greatest fatigue, and the most 
dreadful miseries, they at length reached the place of their 
destination, in a most wretched and exhausted condition. And 



296 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



what was the manner of their reception ? The women having 
satisfied their curiosity in inquiries about the strangers, im- 
mediately began to load them with abuse. " They even spat 
in our faces/' says M. B. " and pelted us with stones. The 
children, too, copying their example, pinched us, pulled our 
hair, and scratched us with their nails, whilst their cruel mo- 
thers ordered them to attack sometimes one and sometimes 
another, and took pleasure in causing them to torment us." 

They were compelled to work at the most fatiguing and 
menial employments, and beaten with severity when they did 
not exert themselves far beyond their strength, while they 
were denied a single morsel of wholesome food. " As we 
were Christians," says the Narrator, " the dogs fared better 
than we, and it was in the basons destined for their use that 
we received our allowance : our food was raw snails, and herbs 
and plants trodden under foot by the multitude." In this man- 
ner did these unfortunate travellers drag out the period of 
their captivity ; some died of the blows and harsh treatment 
they received, and others died of hunger and despair. M. 
Brisson one day found the Captain of the vessel, in a neigh- 
bouring hamlet, stretched out lifeless upon the sand, and 
scarcely distinguishable but by the colour of his body. In 
his mouth he held one of his hands, which his great weakness 
had no doubt prevented him from devouring. He was so 
changed by hunger, that his body exhibited the most disgust- 
ing appearance ; all his features being absolutely effaced. A 
few day s after, the second captain, having fallen down through 
weakness below an old gum tree, became a prey to the attacks 
of a monstrous serpent. Some famished crows, by their 
cries, frightened away the venomous animal, and, alighting 
on the body of the dying man, were tearing him to pieces, 
while four savage monsters, in human shape, still more cruel 
than the furious reptile, beheld this scene without offering him 
the least assistance. " I attempted to run towards him," says 
M. Brisson, " and to save his life, if possible, but the barbari- 
ans stopped me, and after insulting me, said, 'This Christian 
will soon become a prey to the flames.' " The bad state of 
health of this unfortunate man, would not permit him to la- 
bour, and his master and mistress would not allow him the 
milk necessary for his subsistence.— Such were the scenes of 
inhumanity and cruelty, which M. Brisson witnessed, during 
the whole period he remained in the territories of these bar- 
barous tribes. They present to our view so many pictures of 
abomin-ible selfishness and even of pure malevolence. And 
it is a most melancholy reflection, that numerous tribes of a 



INHUMANITY TOWARDS TRAVELLERS. 



297 



similar description are spread over a very large portion 
of the habitable world. It makes one feel degraded when he 
reflects that he is related, by the ties of a common nature, to 
beings possessing a character so malignant and depraved. 

I shall select only another example, illustrative of this to- 
pic, extracted from the travels of Mr. Park. This enterpris- 
ing traveller prosecuted a journey of many hundred miles in 
the interior of Africa, for the most part on foot, and alone. 
Sometimes, his way lay over a burning sandy wilderness, 
where he found little to alleviate either his hunger or his 
thirst ; and sometimes he travelled among woods and thick- 
ets, and across rivers and marshes, exposed to the wild beasts, 
and without any path to guide him. Though the Negroes of 
that country frequently relieved his wants and distresses, yet 
the Moors used him with great cruelty and inhumanity, so that he 
hardly escaped with life. The chiefs through whose territo- 
ries he passed, generally exacted a tribute from him, so long 
as he had any thing to give, and, under that plea, they often 
robbed him of all the articles which he had it not in his power 
to conceal. When he passed through the town of Deena, the 
Moors insulted him in every form which malignity could in- 
vent. A crowd of them surrounded the hut in which he 
lodged, and, besides hissing and shouting, uttered much abu- 
sive language. Their aim seemed to be to provoke Park to 
make retaliation, that they might have some pretence to pro- 
ceed to greater outrages, and to rob him of his property. 
Suspecting their intentionshe bore all with the greatestpatience, 
and, though they even spit in his face, he showed no marks 
of resentment. Disappointed in their aim, they had recourse 
to an argument common among Mahometans, to convince 
themselves that they had a right to whatever the stranger 
might have in his possession. He was a Christian. They 
opened his bundles, and took whatever they thought might be 
of use, and whatever suited their fancy. 

Having been kept for some time in captivity by a Moorish 
tribe, they not only robbed him of the few articles which were 
still in his possession, but insulted and oppressed him with 
the most wanton cruelty. The day was passed in hunger and 
thirst ; to hunger and thirst were added the malignant insults 
of the Moors, of whom many visited him, whose only business 
seemed to be to torment him. He always saw the approach 
of the evening with pleasure; it terminated another day of his 
miserable existence, and removed from him his troublesome 
visitants. A scanty allowance of kouskous,* and of salt and 



A species of food somewhat resembling Scotch porridge. 



298 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



water, was brought him generally about midnight. This 
scanty allowance was all that he and his two attendants were 
to expect during the whole of the ensuing day. " I was a 
stranger," says he, "I was unprotected, and I was a Christian ; 
each of these circumstances is sufficient to drive every spark 
of humanity from the heart of a Moor. Anxious, however, to 
conciliate favour, and, if possible, to afford the Moors no pre- 
tence for ill-treating me, I readily complied with every com- 
mand, and patiently bore every insult. But never did any 
period of my life pass away so heavily. From sun-rise to 
sun-set, was I obliged to bear, with an unruffled countenance, 
the insults of the rudest savages upon earth." Having, at 
length, made his escape from these barbarians, he declares, 
u It is impossible to describe the joy that arose in my mind, 
when I looked around, and concluded that I was out of danger. 
I felt like one recovered from sickness. I breathed freer ; I 
found unusual lightness in my limbs ; even the desert looked 
pleasant ; and I dreaded nothing so much as falling in with 
some wandering parties of the Moors, who might convey me 
back to the land of thieves and murderers from which I had 
just escaped." — Alas ! what a load of sorrow and of misery 
have the selfishness and inhumanity of man accumulated upon 
the heads of forlorn and unfortunate sufferers ! While our 
disconsolate traveller, after his escape, was wandering in an 
unknown desert, fainting with hunger, and parched with thirst, 
surrounded with pitchy darkness, which was only relieved by 
the flashes of the lightnings ; where no sounds were heard but 
the howlings of wild beasts, and the rolling thunders : — "About 
two in the morning," says he, " my horse started at something, 
and, looking round, I was not a little surprised to see a light, 
at a short distance among the trees, and supposing it to be a 
town, I groped along the sand, in hopes of finding corn stalks, 
cotton, or other appearances of cultivation, but found none. As 
I approached, I perceived a number of lights in other places, 
and, leading my horse cautiously towards the light, I heard, by 
the lowing of the cattle, and the clamorous tongues of the 
herdsmen, that it was a watering place, and most likely be- 
longed to the Moors. Delightful as the sound of the human 
voice was to me, I resolved once more to strike into the 
woods, and rather run the risk of perishing with hunger, than 
trust myself again into their hands." — It is a most affecting 
consideration, and shows to what a degree of malignity human 
beings have arrived, when a hungry, houseless, and benighted 
traveller prefers to flee for protection to the haunts of the 
beasts of prey, rather than commit himself to the tender mer- 



INHUMANITY TOWARDS TRAVELLERS. 299 



ci js of those who are partakers of the same common nature, 
and who have it in their power to alleviate his distresses. 

Mr. Park, when among the Moors, was forced to pass ma- 
ny days, almost without drink, under a burning climate, where, 
to a European, the heat is almost insufferable. His raging 
thirst induced him to run every risk, and to burst through 
every restraint. He sent his boy to the wells to fill the skin 
which he had for holding water ; but the Moors were exas- 
perated that a Christian should presume to fill his vessel at 
wells consecrated to the use of the followers of Mahomet, 
Instead, therefore, of permitting the boy to carry away water, 
they gave him many severe blows ; and this mode of treat- 
ment was repeated as often as an attempt was made. — On an- 
other occasion, when awaking from a dream, in which, during 
his broken slumbers, his fancy had transported him to his 
native country, and placed him on the verdant brink of a 
transparent rivulet, and perceiving that his raging thirst had 
exposed him to a kind of fever, he resolved to expose himself 
to the insults of the Moors at the wells, in hopes that he 
might procure a small supply. When he arrived at them he 
found the Moors drawing water. He desired permission to 
drink, but was driven from well to w T ell with reiterated out- 
rage. At length he found one well where only an old man 
and two boys drew for their cattle. He earnestly begged a 
small quantity. The old man drew the bucket from the well,, 
and held it out. Park was about eagerly to seize it, when 
the Moor, recollecting that the stranger was a Christian, in- 
stantly threw the. water into the trough, where the cows were 
already drinking, and told Park to drink thence. He hesi- 
tated not for a moment. His sufferings made even this offer 
acceptable. He thrust his head between those of two cows, 
and, with feelings of pleasure which can be experienced only 
by those who have been reduced to a similar state of wretch* 
edness, he continued to quench his thirst till the water was 
exhausted, and " till the cows began to contend with each 
other for the last mouthful." 

In this instance, we can partly account for the barbarity of 
the action, from the inveterate prejudices which all Mahome- 
tans entertain against Christians ; but it still remains to be 
accounted for, why any one should refuse to a suffering fel- 
low-creature the common bounties of Providence, which he 
has in his power to bestow, however different he may be in 
complexion, in national character, or in the religion he pro- 
fesses. A religion which encourages such prejudices, and 
which leads to such inhumanity, must be an abomination in 



300 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION* 



the sight of Him who has a special regard to the wants of all 
his creatures, and who "sendeth rain to refresh the fields of 
the just and of the unjust" The prevalence of such charac- 
ters and dispositions over so large a portion of the world, 
shows that the moral constitution of man has suffered a sad 
derangement since the period when he proceeded as a pure 
intelligence, from the hands of his Creator. 

Such incidents as those to which I have now adverted, 
when properly considered, are calculated to inspire us with 
contentment, and to excite to gratitude for the common bless- 
ings which we enjoy without the least fear of danger or an- 
noyance. How often do we enjoy the refreshment of a deli- 
cious beverage, without thinking of the parched tongues of 
the African pilgrims ; and how often do we spurn at a whole- 
some dish, which would be hailed with transports of gratitude 
by the houseless and hungry wanderer of the desert ! Yea, 
how many are there, even in our civilized country, who enjoy, 
in luxurious abundance, all the blessings which nature and art 
can furnish, who never once acknowledge, with heart-felt 
gratitude, the goodness of Him 44 who daily loads them with 
his benefits," nor reflect on the wants and the sufferings of 
their fellow-men! Mr. Park, when oppressed with hunger 
and fatigue, applied, at the chief magistrate's house, in a vil- 
lage named Shrilla, for some relief, but was denied admit- 
tance. He passed slowly through the village till he came 
without the walls, where he saw an old motherly-looking 
woman at the door of a mean hut. She set before him a dish 
of boiled corn, that had been left the preceding night, on 
which he made a tolerable meal. "Overcome with joy," 
says Park, 44 at so unexpected a deliverance, I lifted up my 
eyes to heaven, and, while my heart swelled with gratitude, I 
returned thanks to that gracious and bountiful Being, whose 
power had supported me under so many dangers, and had 
now spread for me a table in the wilderness." 

When Mr. Park was returning from the interior of Africa, 
he was encountered by a party of armed negroes, who led 
him into a dark place of the forest through which he was 
passing, and stripped him entirely naked, taking from him 
every thing which he possessed, except an old shirt and a 
pair of trowsers. He begged them to return his pocket com- 
pass; but, instead of complying with his request, one of them 
assured him, that, if he attempted to touch that, or any other 
article, he would immediately shoot him dead on the spot. 
He was thus left in the midst of a vast wilderness, in the 
depth of the rainy season, naked and alone, without food, 



DISFIGURING OF THE HUMAN BODY. 



301 



and without the means of procuring it ; surrounded by savage 
animals, and by men still more savage, and 500 mi4es from 
the nearest European settlement. " All these circumstances," 
says this intrepid traveller, " crowded at once on my recol- 
lection, and, I confess, my spirits began to fail me. I con- 
sidered that I had no other alternative, but to lie down and 
die. The influence of religion, however, aided and supported 
me. At this moment, painful as my reflections were, the ex- 
traordinary beauty of a small moss irresistibly caught my 
eye. Can that Being, thought I, who planted, watered, and 
brought to perfection, in this obscure part of the world, a 
thing which appears of so small importance, look with un- 
concern on the situation and sufferings of creatures formed 
after his own image ? Surely not. Reflections like these 
would not allow me to despair. I started up, and, disregard- 
ing both hunger and fatigue, travelled forwards, assured that 
relief was at hand, and I was not disappointed." Thus was 
this unfortunate adventurer delivered, by the care of provi- 
dence, from those accumulated distresses which had been 
brought upon him by the malignity and inhumanity of man. 

Such are a few specimens of the inhumanity displayed by 
uncivilized tribes towards strangers, and unfortunate voya- 
gers and travellers. They exhibit dispositions and conduct 
directly repugnant to every principle of benevolence, and 
present to our view a gloomy prospect of the difficulties and 
dangers to be surmounted by philanthropic missionaries, be- 
fore the habitable world can be thoroughly explored, and be- 
fore the blessings of knowledge, civilization, and religion can 
be communicated to the benighted and depraved tribes of 
mankind. 

MALEVOLENT DISPOSITIONS, AS DISPLAYED IN DISFIGURING 
THE HUMAN BODY. 

The human frame, when preserved in its original state, is 
one of the finest pieces of mechanism which the mind can 
contemplate. In beauty, in symmetry, in the harmony and 
proportion of all its parts and functions, it is superior to the 
organical structures of all the other ranks of sensitive exist- 
ence. There is no part imperfect or deformed, no part de- 
fective, and no part useless or redundant. All its members 
are so constructed and arranged as to contribute to the beauty 
and perfection of the whole, and to the happiness of the in- 
telligent mind by which it is governed and directed. In 
combination with the power of thought and volition, and 

26 



302 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



when unstained by malignant passions, 11 is a visible repre- 
sentative of the Creator, having been formed after his image ; 
and it displays, in a most striking manner, the wisdom and 
the goodness of its Almighty Maker. But, notwithstanding 
the acknowledged excellence of the human frame, it has been 
the practice of the degraded tribes of mankind, in almost 
every country, and in every age, to disfigure its structure, and 
to deface its beauty; as if the Creator, when he formed it, 
had been deficient in intelligence and in benevolent design. 
Such practices, I am disposed to think, imply a principle of 
malevolence directed towards the Creator, and a disposition 
to find fault with his wise contrivances, and arrangements. 
At any rate, they display a degree of ignorance and folly, a 
vitiated taste, and a degradation of mind, inconsistent with 
the dignity of a rational intelligence. The following facts 
will, perhaps, tend to illustrate these remarks: — 

Condamine, when describing the natives of South America, 
informs us, that the Omaguas, and some other savages, flatten 
the faces of their children, by lacing their heads between two 
boards ; that others pierce the nostrils, lips, or cheeks, and 
place in them feathers, the bones of fishes, and similar orna- 
ments; — and that the savages of Brazil pull the hair out of 
their beards, their eye-brows, and all parts of their bodies, 
which makes them have an uncommon, and a ferocious ap- 
pearance. Their under-lip they pierce, and, as an ornament, 
insert into it a green stone, or a small polished bone. Im- 
mediately after birth the mothers flatten the noses of their 
children. The whole of them go absolute-'v naked, and paint 
their bodies of different colours. — Captair. Cook informs us, 
that, in New Zealand, both sexes mark .heir faces and bodies 
with black stains, similar to the tattooing in Otaheite. The 
men, particularly, add new stains every year, so that, in an 
advanced period of life, they are almost covered from head to 
foot. Besides this, they have marks impressed, by a method 
unknown to us, of a very extraordinary kind. They are 
furrows of about a line deep, and a line broad, such as appear 
upon the bark of a tree which has been cut through after a 
year's growth. The edges of these furrows are afterwards 
indented by the same method, and, being perfectly black, they 
make a most frightful appearance. Both sexes bore their 
ears : they gradually stretch the holes till they are so large 
as to admit a finger. Into these holes they put feathers, 
coloured cloth, bones of birds, twigs of wood, and frequently 
the nails which they received from the ships. — The same voya- 
ger, when describing the New Hollanders, tells us,— ■** T leir 



DISFIGURING OF THE HUMAN BODY. 



303 



*hief ornament is a bone, which is thrust through a hole bored 
in the cartilage which divides the nostrils. This bone is as 
thick as a man's finger, and six inches in length. It reaches 
quite across the face, and so effectually stops up both nostrils, 
that they are forced to keep their mouths wide open for 
breath, and snuffle so when they attempt to speak, that they 
are scarcely intelligible to each other. Our seamen, with 
some humour, called it their sprit-sail yard; and indeed it 
had so ludicrous an appearance, that, till we were used to it, 
we found it difficult to restrain from laughter." He also de- 
scribes a custom of a peculiar nature which prevails in the 
Friendly Islands. " The greater part of the inhabitants, both 
male and female, were observed to have lost one or both of 
their little fingers. This custom seemed not to be character- 
istic of rank, of age, or of sex ; for, with the exception of 
Borne young children, very few people were discovered in 
whom both hands were perfect. They likewise burn or make 
incisions in their cheeks." 

All the eastern nations are said to have a predilection for 
long ears. Some draw the lobe of the ear, in order to stretch 
it to a greater length, and pierce it so as to allow the admis- 
sion of an ordinary pendant. The natives of Laos so pro- 
digiously widen the holes in their ears, that a man's hand 
may be thrust through them. Hence, the ears of these peo- 
ple often descend to the tops of their shoulders.* Gentil as- 
sures us, that the women, in the northern parts of China, 
employ every art in order to diminish their eyes. For this 
purpose, the girls, instructed by their mothers, extend their 
eye-lids continually, with the view of making their eyes oblong 
and small. These properties, in the estimation of the Chinese, 
when joined to a flat nose, and large, open, pendulous ears, 
constitute the perfection of beauty. — We are informed by 
Struys, that the women of Siam wear so large and heavy 
pendants in their ears, that the holes gradually become wide 
enough to admit a man's thumb. The natives of New Hol- 
land pull out the two fore-teeth of the upper jaw. In Calicut, 
there is a band of nobles called JSaires, who lengthen their 
ears to such a degree, that they hang down to their shoulders, 
and sometimes even lower.f The Arabs paint their lips, arms, 
and the most conspicuous parts of their bodies, with a deep 
blue colour. This paint, which they lay on in little dots, and 
make it penetrate the flesh, by puncturing the skin with nee- 
dles, can never be effaced. Some of the Asiatics paint their 



*SmelhVs Philosophy of Natural History, Vol. II. tlbid 



304 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



eye brows of a black colour, and others eradicate the hairs 
with rusma, and paint artificial eye-brows, in the form of a 
black crescent, which gives them an uncommon and ugly ap- 
pearance. The inhabitants of Prince William's Sound, paint 
their faces and hands, bore their ears and noses, and slit theii 
under lips. In the holes made in their noses, they hang 
pieces of bone or ivory, which are often two or three inches 
long ; and, in the slit of the lip, they place a bone or ivory in 
strument with holes in it, from which they suspend beads that 
reach below the chin. These holes in the lip disfigure them 
greatly, for some of them are as large as their mouths.* 

Such distortions of the beautiful structure of the human 
frame, are not peculiar to the savage tribes of the human race, 
but are practised by nations which have made considerable 
advances in science and civilization. It is well known that, in 
China, a ridiculous custom prevails, of rendering the feet of 
their females so small, that they can with difficulty support 
their bodies. This is deemed a principal part of their beauty ; 
and no swathing nor compression is omitted, when they are 
young, to give them this fancied accomplishment. Every 
woman of fashion, and every woman who wishes to be reck- 
oned handsome, must have her feet so small, that they could 
easily enter the shoe of a child of six years of age. The 
great toe is the only one left to act with freedom ; the rest are 
doubled down under the foot, in their tenderest infancy, and 
restrained by tight bandages, till they unite with, and are 
buried in the sole. I have inspected a model of a Chinese 
lady's foot, exactly of this description, which, I was assured, 
was taken from life. The length was only two inches and 
three-fourths; the breadth of the base of the heel, seven- 
eighths of an inch ; the breadth of the broadest part of the foot, 
one and one-fourth of an inch ; and the diameter of the ankle, 
three inches above the heel, one and seven-eighths of an inch. 
With feet of this description the Chinese ladies may be said 
rather to totter than to walk ; and, by such practices, the} 
evidently frustrate the benevolent intentions of the Creator, 
and put themselves to unnecessary inconvenience and pain. 
Yet such is the powerful influence of fashion, however absurd 
and ridiculous, that women of the middling and inferior 
classes frequently suffer their feet to be thus maimed and dis- 
torted, in order to ape the unnatural customs of their supe- 
riors. 

We have every reason to believe, that the harsh and ugly 



* fojtiock's Voyage round the Worlds 



DISFIGURING OF THE HUMAN BODY, 305 



features, and the ferocious aspect, by which numerous tribes 
of mankind are distinguished, are owing to such voluntary 
distortions of the human frame, and to the filthy and abomina- 
ble practices in which tney indulge. Father Tertre assures 
us, that the flat noses of the negroes are occasioned by a 
general practice of mothers, who depress the noses of their 
new-born infants, and squeeze their lips, in order to thicken 
them ; and that those children who escape these operations 
have elevated noses, thin lips, and fine features. — It is some- 
what unaccountable, and it shows the perversity of the human 
mind, in its present degraded state, that such practices should 
be so general, and so obstinately persisted in, when we con- 
sider the pain and inconvenience with which they are attend- 
ed.— To pull the hairs of the chin or eye-brows from the 
roots : to slit the under lip, till the incision be as large as 
one's mouth ; to pierce the nostrils, till a bone as large as a 
man's finger can be thrust through them ; and to cover the 
body with black streaks, which make the blood to flow at 
every stroke of the instrument by which they are produced, 
must be attended with excruciating pain. Sir Joseph Banks, 
who accompanied Captain Cook in his first voyage, was pre- 
sent, in the island of Otaheite, at the operation of tattooing, 
performed on the back of a girl of thirteen years of age. The 
instrument used had twenty teeth ; and at each stroke, which 
was repeated every moment, issued an ichor or serum, 
tinged with blood. The girl bore the pain with great resolu- 
tion, for some minutes, till, at length, it became so intolera- 
ble, that she burst out into violent exclamations; but the 
operator, notwithstanding the most earnest entreaties to 
desist, was inexorable, while two women, who attended upon 
the occasion, both chid and beat her for struggling. 

I am therefore disposed to view such absurd and barbarous 
practices, as intimately connected with the operation of a 
principle of malevolence, as an attempt to frustrate the wise 
designs of divine benevolence, and as directly repugnant to 
the spirit of Christianity, and to the benevolent precepts of 
the gospel of peace. And it becomes some of the ladies, and 
the dandies of modern Europe to consider, whether some of 
their awkward attempts to improve the symmetry of the 
human frame ought not to be viewed in the same light. Not 
many years ago, it was considered, in the higher circles of 
society, as an admirable improvement of the female form, to 
give the lower half of the body the appearance of the frustum 
of a large tun, as if it had been ten times the capacity of its 
natural size, by supporting their robes with enormous hoops;--* 

26* 



306 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



and, about the same period, the lower ranks of female society 
considered it as the perfection of proportion and beauty, to 
have their waists compressed into the smallest possible space, 
till the vital functions, in many instances, were deranged, and 
ultimately destroyed. Were the dictates of sound reason 
universally attended to, and were the influence of Christianity 
fully felt among all nations, the preposterous and savage prac- 
tices to which I have now adverted, would not only be dis- 
continued, but held in abhorrence. And were such customs 
completely abolished, we might soon expect to behold, among 
all the tribes of mankind, every distortion of the features o 
the countenance removed, and the human form restored to ita 
original beauty and perfection. Instead of a warlike visage, 
and a ferocious aspect, and the frightful appearance of naked 
savages, streaked with colours of black and blue, we should 
behold, ill every land, every countenance beaming with the 
radiations of benevolence, and reflecting the moral image of 
the Creator. 

MALEVOLENCE AS IT APPEARS IN THE RELIGION OF SAVAGE 

TRIBES. 

There is scarcely a nation on the surface of the globe but 
what appears to have some impressions of the existence of 
a Superior Power, and to have formed a system of religious 
worship. But, it is a striking fact, that, among the greater 
portion of human beings, their religious notions, and their 
sacred rites, instead of breathing a spirit of kindness and be- 
nevolence towards their fellow-creatures, are blended with a 
principle of hatred and revenge. This might be illustrated 
by an induction of a great variety of instances, in reference to 
almost every uncivilized portion of the human race* I shall 
content myself, however, with stating only one instance, in 
reference to the Nesserie, a tribe not much known in Europe, 
and which may serve as an example of many others. 

The territory of this people extends from Antioch nearly 
to Tripoli. They occupy almost all the mountains to the 
east of Latakia, and a great part of the plain. Among them 
is perceived a mixture of the religious usages of Paganism, of 
the Jewish law, of that of Mahomet and Ali, and of some 
dogmas of the Christian Religion. — The women are consid- 
ered as a part of the domestic animals of the house, and 
treated as slaves. They have no idea of religion, and when 
they are bold enough to inquire of their masters concerning 
it, the latter answer them, that their religion is, to be charged 



THE RELIGION OF SAVAGE TRIBES. 



307 



with the reproduction of the species, and to be subject to the 
will of their husbands. — The Nesserie say their prayers at 
midnight, and before sun-set. They may say them either 
sitting, standing, or walking ; but they are obliged to begin 
again repeating their ablution, if they speak to a person not 
of their religion, — if they perceive, either near or at a dis- 
tance, a camel, a pig, a hare, or a negro. In their prayers, 
they curse the man who shaves below the chin, him who is 
impotent, and the two Caliphs, Omar and Abou-Bekr. They 
detest the Turks, to whom they are sworn enemies. This 
warlike people of mountaineers would be strong enough to 
shake off the yoke of the Turks, and live independently, if 
they were not divided by interested motives, almost all oc- 
casioned by implacable family hatreds. They are vindictive, 
and cherish their rancour for a length of time : even the death 
of the guilty person cannot assuage their fury ; their ven- 
geance is incomplete, if it does not fall besides on one or 
several members of his fanily. They are so obstinately su- 
perstitious in their attachment to their peculiar system, that 
no threats, nor punishments can extort from them the secrets 
of their religion.* 

Here then, we are presented with a system of Religion, 
which appears to be founded on malevolence, — which directs 
its devotees to curse their fellow-men — which leads them to 
keep their women in profound ignorance of every thing 
which they hold sacred — which induces them to conceal its 
mysteries from all the rest of the world — and which, in so 
far from producing any beneficial effects on their own conduct, 
leads to 44 implacable family hatreds." A religion, unless it 
be founded on a principle of benevolence, is unworthy of the 
name ; it must be an abhorrence in the sight of God, and 
can never communicate happiness to man. And were we to 
examine the various religious systems which prevail in the 
numerous islands of the Indian and Pacific Oceans, in Cabul, 
Thibet, and Hindostan, and among the uncivilized tribes which 
are scattered over a large portion of Asia and of Africa, we 
should find them, not only blended with malevolent principles 
and maxims, but sanctioning the perpetration of deeds of 
cruelty, obscenity, and horror. 



In the preceding pages, I have endeavoured to illustrate 
some of the prominent features in the moral character of the 

* Sec Dupont's " Memoirs of the Manners and Religious Ceremoniet 
of the Nesserie," a work lately published. 



308 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



savage and uncivilized tribes of the human race. The exam* 
pies I have selected have not been taken from the records ol 
Missionaries, or of professed Religionists, who might be sus- 
pected by some, to give an exaggerated description of the de- 
pravity of the Pagan world — but from the unvarnished state- 
ments of respectable voyagers and travellers, who could have 
no motives for misrepresenting the facts which they have re- 
corded. These illustrations might have been extended to a 
much greater length, had it been consistent with the limited 
nature of the present work. Instead of occupying only forty 
or fifty pages, they might have been extended so as to have 
filled as many volumes; for every book of travels, as well as 
every historical document, contains a record of the operations 
of malignity, and of the diversified modes in which human de- 
pravity is displayed. The dispositions which I have illus- 
trated, it will be readily admitted, are all of a malignant 
character, directly repugnant to that benevolent principle 
which forms the basis of the moral laws of the universe. And 
when we consider, that such malevolent dispositions are dis- 
played by a mass of human beings, amounting to more than 
three-fourths of the population of the globe, and that true 
happiness cannot be experienced where malignant passions 
reign uncontrolled, a benevolent mind cannot refrain from in- 
dulging a thousand melancholy reflections, when it casts its 
eye over the desolations of the moral world, and from forming 
an anxious wish, that the period may soon arrive, when the 
darkness which covers the nation shall be dispelled, and when 
benevolence and peace shall reign triumphant over ail the 
earth. 

I shall now endeavour to present a few 7 facts and sketches 
which may have a tendency to illustrate the present state, and 
the moral character and aspect of the civilized world. 



SECTION III. 

Moral State of Civilized Nations. 

The present population of the globe may be estimated at 
about 800 millions. Of these, if we except the empires of 
China and Hindostan, we cannot reckon above 180 millions 
as existing in a state of enlightened civilization ; a number 



MORAL STATE OF CIVILIZED NATIONS. 



309 



which is less than the fourth part of the human race. Were 
even this small portion of mankind uniformly distinguished 
for intelligence, and for the practice of benevolence, it would 
form a glorious picture for the philanthropist to contemplate ; 
and would be a sure prelude of the near approach of that hap- 
py period, when 44 all the ends of the earth shall remember 
and turn to the Lord, when all the kindreds of the nations shall 
do homage unto him, and when there shall be nothing to hurt 
nor destroy" among all the families of mankind. But alas ! 
when we investigate the moral state even of this portion of 
human beings, we find the principle of malignity distinctly 
visible in its operations, and interwoven, in numerous and 
minute ramifications, through all the ranks and gradations of 
society. Though its shades are less dark and gloomy, they 
are no less real than among the hordes of Africa and Tartary, 
and the other abodes of savage life. To illustrate this posi- 
tion is the object of the following sketches ; in which I shall 
chiefly refer to the state of society among the nations of Eu- 
rope, and the United States of America, and particularly to 
the moral character and aspect of the British empire. 

I shall, in the first place, consider the operation of the ma- 
levolent principle as it appears in the actions and dispositions 
of the young, and in the modes of tuition by which they are 
trained. 

Tn many thousands of instances, it may be observed, that, 
even before a child has been weaned from its mother's breasts, 
malignant dispositions are not only fostered, but are regularly 
taught both by precept and example. Does a child happen 
to hit its head accidentally against the corner of a table — it is 
taught by its nurse, and even by its mother, to avenge the in- 
jury on the inanimate object which caused it, and to exhibit its 
prowess and its revenge by beating the table with all its might. 
Does it cry, through peevishness or pain — it is immediately 
threatened with being thrown into the ditch, tossed out of the 
window, or committed to the charge of some frightful spectre. 
Is it expedient to repress its murmurings, and to cajole it into 
obedience — it is then inspired with fallacious hopes, and al- 
lured with deceitful promises of objects and of pleasures which 
are never intended to be realized. Does it require to have its 
physical powers exercised — a wooden sword or a whip is put 
into its hands; and it is encouraged to display its energies in 
inflicting strokes on a dog, a cat, or any of its play-fellows or 
companions. I have seen a little urchin of this description, 
three or four years of age, brandishing its wooden sword 
with all the ardour of a warrior, and repeating its strokes on 



310 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



every person around, whilt the foolish parents were exulting 
in the prowess displayed by their little darling, and encourag- 
ing it in all its movements. By these and similar practices, 
revenge, falsehood, superstition, and the elements of war, are 
fostered in the youthful mind ; and is it to be wondered at, 
that such malignant principles and passions should " grow 
with their growth, and strengthen with their strength," till 
they burst forth in all those hideous forms which they assume 
amidst the contests of communities and of nations ? — The 
false maxims by which children are frequently trained under 
the domestic roof, and the foolish indulgence with which they 
are treated by injudicious parents, in too many instances lay 
the foundation of those petulant and malignant tempers, which 
are a pest both to Christian and to general society. Indul- 
gence often leads to an opposite extreme ; and produces such 
a degree of insubordination among the young, that nothing is 
to be seen and heard but a perpetual round of scolding and 
beating, and the contest of angry passions. "Among the 
lower ranks of people," says Dr. Witherspoon, "who are un- 
der no restraint from decency, you may sometimes see a father 
or mother running out into the street, after a child who has 
fled from them, with looks of fury and words of execration, 
and they are often stupid enough to imagine that neighbours 
or passengers will approve them in this conduct." Wherever 
parental authority is thus undermined, and such conduct uni- 
formly pursued, a sure foundation is laid for an extensive dis- 
play, in after life, of the malignant passions of the human 
heart. 

If we follow our youth from the nursery to the school-room, 
we shall find the same malevolent affections developing them- 
selves on a larger scale, and indirectly cherished, by the books 
they read, the discipline by which they are trained, and the 
amusements in which they indulge. Here we may behold one 
little fellow taking a malicious pleasure in pinching his neigh- 
bour, another in kicking him, a third in boxing him, a fourth 
in tearing his book, a fifth in pilfering his property, and a sixth 
in endeavouring to hold him up to scorn and ridicule ; and all 
of them combined to frustrate, if possible, the exertions of 
their teacher, and to prevent their own improvement. — If we 
look into the majority of the books which are read in schools, 
we shall find them full of encomiums upon war, and upon 
warriors. The Cesars, the Alexanders, and the Buonapartes, 
whose restless ambition has transformed the earth into scenes 
of desolation and carnage, are represented as patterns of every 
thing that is brave, noble, generous, and heroic. The descrip- 



MORAL STATE OF CIVILIZED NATIONS. 



31 1 



tive powers of the poet are also called in, in order to inflame 
the youthful mind with warlike dispositions, and to excite an 
ardent desire for mingling in scenes of contention, and for the 
acquisition of false glory and of military renown. Hence, 
there is no part of their school-exercises in which the young 
so much delight, and in which they so much excel, as in that, 
in which they are called upon to recite such speeches as 
" Sempronius's speech for war," or to ape the revengeful en- 
counter of Norval and Glenalvon. While the spirit of war is 
thus virtually cherished, the counteraction of vicious propen- 
sities, and the cultivation of the moral powers of the young, 
are considered as a matter of inferior importance, and, in 
many seminaries of instruction, are altogether overlooked. 
Many of the school-collections to which I allude — instead of 
exhibiting, in simple language, the heauties and sublimities of 
the works of nature, the displays of the natural and moral 
character of the Deity, the facts of Sacred History, the moral- 
ity of the Gospel, the scenes of rural and domestic life, and 
the operations of philanthropy — are filled with extracts from 
metaphysical writers, from parliamentary debates, and from 
old plays, novels, and farces, which are frequently interlarded 
with oaths, obscenity, and the slang of Billingsgate, which 
can have no other tendency than to pollute and demoralize the 
youthful mind. It needs, therefore, excite no surprise, that 
the great body of mankind is still so deficient in rational in- 
formation and substantial knowledge, and that a warlike spirit 
is afloat, and exerting its^baleful influence among the nations. 

If we follow the young from the school-room to the play- 
ground, or to the streets and the highways, we shall find the 
jpirit of malignity displaying itself in a vast diversity of forms. 
Here, we may behold one mischievous little boy slapping his 
neighbour in the face, another tearing his neighbour's clothes, 
another tossing his cap into a dirty ditch, another chalking his 
back in order to hold him up to ridicule, and another pouring 
out upon him a torrent of nicknames, and of scurrilous epi- 
thets. There, we may behold a crowd of boys pelting a poor 
b^g-gar or an unfortunate maniac with stones and dirt for their 
Aversion ; mocking the lame, the deformed, and the aged, and 
insulting the passing traveller. And, when such objects do 
not happen to occur, we may see them assailing, with a shower 
of stones, a cat, a dog, a hare, or a fowl, that happens to cross 
the path, and enjoying a diabolical pleasure in witnessing the 
sufferings of these unfortunate animals. Here, we may behold 
an insolent boy insulting a timid girl, overturning her pitcher, 
and besmearing her with mire;— there we behold another sa- 



812 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



luting his fellow with a malignant scowl, and a third brandish- 
ing his whip, and lashing a horse or a cow, for his amusement. 
On the one hand, we may sometimes behold a ring of boys, 
in the centre of which two little demons are engaged in mutu- 
al combat, with eyes glaring with fury and revenge, exerting 
their physical powers to the utmost stretch, in order to wound 
and lacerate, and cover with blood and gore, the faces of each 
other : on the other hand, we may behold an unfortunate boy, 
whom a natural temperament, or a virtuous principle, prevents 
from engaging in similar combats, assailed with opprobrious 
epithets, and made a laughing-stock, and an object of derision 
and scorn, because he will not be persuaded to declare war 
against his neighbour. And, what is still more atrocious and 
disgusting, we may behold children of thirty or forty years of 
age, encouraging such malevolent dispositions, and stimulating 
such combatants in their diabolical exertions !* Such infernal 
practices, among creatures originally formed after the divine 
image, if they were not so common, would be viewed by 
every one in whose breast the least spark of virtue resides, 
with feelings of indignation and horror. 

* The practice of boxing, among" boys, which so generally prevails, 
especially in England, is a disgrace to the boasted civilization and Chris- 
tianity of that country, and to the superintendents of its public seminaries. 
That pugilistic contests between grown-up savages in a civilized shape, 
should be publicly advertised, and described in our newspapers, and the 
arena of such contests resorted to by so many thousands of the middling 
and higher classes of society, is a striking proof that the spirit of folly 
and of malignity still prevails to a great extent, and that the spirit of 
Christianity has made little progress, even within the limits of the British 
empire. — The following late occurrence shows the fatal effects with 
which such practices are sometimes attended. " On Monday, February 
28, 1825, two of the scholars at Eton, the Hon. F. A. Cooper, the son of 
the Earl of Shaftesbury, and Mr. Wood, the son of Colonel Wood, and 
nephew to the Marquis of Londonderry, in consequence of a very warm 
altercation on the play-ground, on the preceding day, met, for the pur- 
pose of settling the unhappy quarrel by a pugilistic encounter — a preva- 
lent practice at Eton^ and all our public schools. Almost the whole school 
assembled to witness the spectacle. The inexperienced youtht com- 
menced fighting at four o'clock, and partly by their own energy, and 
partly by the criminal excitement of others, continued the fatal contest 
till within a little of six, when, mournful to relate, the Earl of Shaftes- 
bury's son fell very heavily upon his head, and never spoke afterwards. 
He was carried off to his lodgings, where he expired in a few hours. On 
the Coroner's inquest it came out, that brandy had been administered 
very freely, and that no decisive effort had been made to discontinue a 
contest prolonged beyond all due limits. — About forty years ago, a simi- 
lar cause led to a similar result at the same establishment. The survi- 
vor is a clergyman of great respectability." — See the Public Prints for 
Feb. and Evan. Mag. for April, 1825. 



MORAL STATE OF CIVILIZED NATIONS. 313 

The great body of our youth, habituated to such disposi- 
tions and practices, after having left school at the age of four- 
teen or fifteen — a period when head-strong passions and 
vicious propensities begin to operate with still greater violence 
■ — have access to no other seminaries, in which their lawless 
passions may be counteracted and controlled, and in which 
they may be carried forward in the path of moral and intel- 
lectual improvement. Throughout the whole of the civilized 
world, 1 am not aware that there exist any regular institutions 
3xclusively appropriated for the instruction of young persons, 
/rom the age of fifteen to the age of twenty-five or upwards, 
on moral, religious, and scientific subjects ; in order to ex- 
pand their intellectual capacities, and to direct their moral 
powers in the path of universal benevolence. Yet, without 
such institutions, all the knowledge and instructions they may 
have previously acquired, in the great majority of instances, 
are rendered almost useless and inefficient for promoting the 
great end of their existence. From the age of fifteen to the 
age of twenty-five, is the most important period of human life; 
and, for want of proper instruction and direction, during this 
period, and of rational objects to employ the attention at lei- 
sure hours, many a hopeful young man has been left to glide 
insensibly into the mire of vice and corruption, and to become 
a pest to his friends, and to general society. Our streets and 
highways are infested, and our jails and bridewells filled with 
young persons of this age, who, by means of rational and reli- 
gious training, might have been rendered a comfort to their 
friends, blessings to society, and ornaments of the Christian 
Church. 

It would be inconsistent with the limited plan of this work, 
to attempt to trace the principle of malignity through ail the 
scenes of social, commercial, and domestic life. Were I to 
enter into details of filial impiety, ingratitude, and rebellion — 
of faithless friendships — of .the alienations of affection, and of 
the unnatural contentions between brothers and sisters — of the 
abominable seJJisJuiess which appears in the general conduct 
and transactions of mankind — of the bitterness, the fraud, and 
the perjury, with which law-suits are commenced and prosecut- 
ed — of the hatred, malice, and resentment, manifested for in- 
juries real or supnosed — of the frauds daily committed in every 
department of the commercial world — of the shufflings and 
base deceptions which are practised in cases of bankruptcy — 
of the slanders, the caballing, and the falsehood, which attend 
electioneering contests — of the envy, malice, and resentment, 
displayed between competitors for office and power — of the 

27 



314 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



haughtiness and insolence displayed by petty tyrants both in 
church and state — of the selfishness and injustice of corporate 
bodies, and the little regard they show for the interests of 
those who are oppressed, and deprived of their rewards — of 
the gluttony, drunkenness, and prodigality, which so generally 
prevail — of the brawlings, fightings, and contentions, which are 
daily presented to the view in taverns, ale-houses, and dram- 
shops, and the low slang and vulgar abuse with which such 
scenes are intermingled — of the seductions accomplished by 
insidious artfulness and outrageous perjury — of the multiplied 
falsehoods of al] descriptions which are uttered in courts, it 
camps, and in private dwellings — of the unblushing lies of pub- 
lic newspapers, and the perjuries of office — of the systematic 
frauds and robberies by which a large portion of the commu 
nity are cheated out of their property and their rights — of the 
pride, haughtiness, and oppression of the rich, and of the malice 
envy, and discontentment of the poor — such pictures of malig- 
nity might be presented to the view, as would fill the mind of 
the reader with astonishment and horror, and which would 
require a series of volumes to record the revolting details. 

There is one very general characteristic of civilized, and 
even of Christian society, that bears the stamp of malignity, 
which may particularly be noticed ; and that is, the pleasure 
with which men expatiate on the faults and delinquencies of 
their neighbours, and the eagerness w ith which they circulate 
scandalous reports through every portion of the community. 
Almost the one half of the conversation of civilized men, 
when strictly analyzed, will be found to consist of malignant 
insinuations, and of tales of scandal and detraction, the one 
half of which is destitute of any solid foundation. How comrs 
it to pass, that the slightest deviation from propriety or recti- 
tude, in the case of one of a generally respectable character, 
is dwelt upon with a fiend-like pleasure, and aggravated be- 
yond measure, while all his good qualities are overlooked and 
thrown completely into the shade ? What is the reason why 
we are not as anxious to bring forward the good qualities and 
actions of or./ fellow-men, and to bestow upon them their due 
tribute of praise, as we are to blaze abroad their errors and in- 
firmities? How often does it happen, that a single evil action 
committed by an individual, contrary to the general tenor of 
his life, will be trumpeted about by the tongue of malice, even 
to the end of his life, while all his virtuous deeds and praise- 
worthy actions will be overlooked and forgotten, and attempt- 
ed to be buried in oblivion ! If benevolence were the prevail- 
ing characteristic of mankind, such dispositions would seldom 



MORAL STATE OF CIVILIZED NATIONS. 



315 



be displayed in the intercourses of human beings. If benevo- 
lence were the prevailing characteristic of mankind, such dis- 
positions would seldom be displayed in the intercourses of hu- 
man beings. If benevolence pervaded every heart, we would 
rejoice to expatiate on the excellences of others ; — these would 
form the chief topics of conversation in our personal remarks 
on others; we would endeavour to throw a veil over the in- 
firmities of our brethren, and would be always disposed to 
exercise that candour and charity " which covers a multitude 
of sins." 

If we now turn our eyes for a moment, to the amusements 
of civilized society, we shall find many of them distinguished 
by a malignant character and tendency. What an appropri- 
ate exhibition for rational and immortal beings do the scenes 
of a cockpit display ! to behold a motley group of bipeds, of all 
sorts and sizes, from the peer to the chimney-sweep, and from 
the man of hoary hairs to the lisping infant, betting, blustering 
swearing, and feasting their eyes with a savage delight on the 
sufferings of their fellow-bipeds, whom they have taught tc 
wound, to torment, and to destroy each other ! There it 
scarcely any thing that appears so congenial to the spirit 
which pervades the infernal regions, as the attempt to inspire 
the lower animals with the same malignant dispositions which 
characterize the most degraded of the human species. That 
such a cruel and disgusting practice still prevails in England, 
and that it formed, till lately, a part of the amusements of al- 
most all the schools in Scotland, is a reproach to the civiliza- 
tion, the humanity, and the Christianity of our country. And 
what a fine spectacle to a humane and civilized mind is the 
amusement of bull-baiting I an amusement in which the 
strength and courage of this animal are made the means of 
torturing him with the most exquisite agonies ! Can benevo- 
lence, can even the common feelings of humanity, reside in the 
breast of that man who can find enjoyment in encouraging and 
in witnessing such barbarous sports ? And what a dignified 
amusement is the horse-race ! where crowds of the nobility, 
gentry, and of the most polished classes of society, as well as 
the ignoble rabble, assemble from all quarters, to behold two 
noble animals panting, and heaving, and endeavouring to out- 
strip each other on the course ! What a scene of bullying, 
and jockeying, and betting, and cheating, and cursing, and 
swearing, and fighting, is generally presented on such oc- 
casions ! What a wonderful degree of importance is attach- 
ed, by the most iignified ranks of society, to the issue of the 
race ; as if the fate of an empire, or the salvation of an immor- 



316 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 



tal spirit, were depending on the circumstance of one horse 
getting a start of another ! I do not mean to decry, indiscri- 
minately, public amusements ; nor to call in question the pro- 
priety of improving the locomotive powers of the horse; but, 
surely, it would require no great stretch of invention, to de- 
vise spectacles and entertainments, much more dignified and 
congenial to the noble powers, and to the high destination of the 
human mind, and which might be exhibited with as little ex- 
pense either of time or of money. 

And what shall we say of lion fights, and dog fights, and 
boxing matches between animals in the shape of men, which 
have been lately advertised in the public prints with so much 
impudence and effrontery ? Are the patrons of such revolt- 
ing exhibitions, and the crowds which resort to them, to be 
considered as patterns of taste, of humanity, and of refined 
benevolence 1 And what shall we think of the amusements of 
one half of our gentry, country squires, gentlemen farmers, and 
the whole tribe of the sporting community, who derive more 
exquisite enjoyment in maiming a hare, a partridge, or a moor- 
fowl, than in relieving the wants of the friendless poor, in me- 
liorating the condition of their dependents, or in patronizing 
the diffusion of useful knowledge I If one of our best moral 
poets declared, that "he would not enter, on his list of friends, 
though graced with polished manners and fine sense, the man 
who needlessly sets foot upon a worm, 9 ' what would be his 
estimate of the ma'n who derived one of his chief gratifications, 
day after day, from making havoc among the feathered tribes, 
and from lacerating and maiming a timid hare, for the sole 
purpose of indulging a sporting humour, and proving himself 
an excellent marksman ? Can we suppose that the benevolent 
Creator so curiously organized the beasts of the earth and the 
fowls of heaven, and endowed them with exquisite feelings 
and sensibility, merely that tyrannical man might torture and 
destroy them for his amusement ? For the persons to whom 
I allude cannot plead necessity for such conduct, as if they 
were dependent for subsistence on their carcasses. Such is 
still the mania for these cruel arguments, that the butchery of 
the brutal and the winged tribes, it is likely, will soon be re- 
duced to a regular system, and enrolled among the number of 
the fine arts. For, an octavo volume, of 470 pages, which has 
already passed through three editions, has been lately pub- 
lished, entitled, " Instructions to Young Sportsmen in all that 
relates to Game and Shooting : M by Lieut. Colonel Hawker. 
The author, after having stated that he has now lost his eyes 
&txd nerves for a good shot, says, ; The greatest pleasure that 



PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 



317 



can possibly remain for me, is to resign the little I have learned 
for the benefit of young sportsmen. The rising generation of 
shooters might otherwise be left for many years, to find out 
all these little matters." And a most important loss, doubt- 
less, the rising generation would have sustained, had not the 
worthy Colonel condescended to communicate his discoveries ! 
I was lately making an excursion in a steam-boat, through one 
of the Scottish lakes. Among the passengers were several of 
the sporting gentry, furnished with all their requisite accou- 
trements, who seemed to enjoy a higher gratification in dis- 
turbing the happiness of the feathered tribes, than in contem- 
plating the natural beauties of the surrounding scene. When 
any of these hapless animals appeared in view, a hue and cry 
commenced, a shot was prepared, and a musket levelled at 
the unoffending creatures, which created among them univer- 
sal agitation and alarm. Some of them were killed; and oth 
ers, doubtless, maimed, and rendered miserable for life ; while 
no human being could enjoy the least benefit from such wan 
ton cruelty. To kill, or even to maim any living creature 
that is doing us no harm, and when there is no possibility, nor 
even a desire, to procure its carcass for food, cannot, I should 
think, by any sophistry of reasoning, be construed into an act 
of benevolence.* 

I cannot, here, forbear inserting a passage from 44 Salt's 
Travels in Abyssinia," which exhibits a very different spirit in 
one whom some would be disposed to rank among the class of 
semi-barbarians. "In the evening, Baharnegash Yasons, a 
servant of the Ras (of Abyssinia) who had attended me during 
my whole stay in the country, took his leave. Among all the 
men with whom I have been intimately acquainted, I consider 
this old man as one of the most perfect and blameless charac- 
ters. His mind seemed to be formed upon the purest princi- 
ples of the Christian religion ; his every thought and action 
appeared to be the result of its dictates. He would often, to 

* In throwing out these reflections, the author by no means wishes to 
insinuate, that it is improper, in every instance, to kill any of the inferior 
animals; his remarks being directed solely against the practice of wan- 
tonly maiming or destroying them for the sake of mere sport or amuse- 
ment. Even in those cases where it may appear expedient or necessary, 
to extirpate a portion of the animal tribes, it appears somewhat strange, 
that gentlemen should be the voluntary agents employed in this work of 
destruction, and that their minds should be so much absorbed in the satis- 
faction which it creates. One would have thought that the very lowest 
class of the community would have been selected for this purpose, as 
there is something naturally revolting in the employment of destroying 
the life of any sensitive being. 

27* 



318 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



ease his mule, walk more than half the day ; and as he jour- 
neyed by my side, continually recited prayers for our welfare 
and future prosperity. On all occasions he sought to repress 
in those around him, every improper feeling of anger ; con- 
ciliated them by the kindest words, and excited them, by his 
example, to an active performance of their duties. If a man 
were weary, he would assist him in carrying his burden ; if he 
perceived any of the mules' backs to be hurt, he would beg me 
to have them relieved ; and, constantly, when he saw me en 
gaged in shooting partridges, or other birds, he would call out 
to them to fly out of the way, shaking his head, and begging 
me, in a mournful accent, not to kill them. I have remarked, 
in my former Journal, that, with all this refined feeling of hu 
manity, he was far from being devoid of courage; and, I had an 
opportunity, subsequently, of witnessing several instances of 
his bravery, though he appeared on all occasions peculiarly 
anxious to avoid a quarrel. We parted, I believe, with mu- 
tual regret : at least for my own part, I can truly say, that I 
have seldom felt more respect for an individual than I did for 
this worthy man." 

As a contrast to the benevolent dispositions displayed by 
this worthy Abyssinian, — I shall give a short description of a 
bull-jight, in Madrid, extracted from a work, the author of 
which was a spectator (in 1803) of the scene he describes. 
" The Spanish bull-fights are certainly the most extraordinary 
exhibition in Europe : we were present at one of them this 
morning. The places in the amphitheatre were nearly all 
filled at half past nine, and at ten, the corregidor came into his 
box; upon which the trumpets sounded, and the people rose 
and shouted, from the delight that the show was to begin im- 
mediately. Four men in black gowns then came forward, and 
read a proclamation, enjoining all persons to remain in their 
seats. On their going out of the arena, the six bulls which 
were to be fought this morning, were driven across, led on by 
a cow, with a bell round her neck. The two Picadores (the 
men who were appointed to fight the furious animals) now ap- 
peared, dressed in leathern gaiters, thick leathern breeches, 
silk jackets covered with spangles, and caps surmounted by 
broad brimmed white hats : each rode a miserable hack, and 
carried in his hand a long pole, with a goad at the end. As 
soon as they were prepared, a door was opened, and the first 
bull rushed in. In the course of the contest, I felt first alarmed 
for the men, and then for the horses. Soon the accidents of 
the men withdrew my. pity from the beasts ; and, latterly, by a 
natural, and dreadful operation of the mind, I began to look 



SPANISH BULL-FIGHTS. 



319 



without horror on the calamities of both. The manner of the 
fight is thus : — the bull rushes in, and makes an attack seve- 
rally upon the picadores, who repulse him ; he being always 
upon these occasions, wounded in the neck ; after a few re 
encounters, he becomes somewhat shy ; but, at the same time, 
when he does rush on, he is doubly dangerous. He follows 
up the attack, and frequently succeeds in overthrowing both 
horse and rider. As long as the horse has strength to bear 
the picadore, he is obliged to ride him. This morning one of 
these wretched animals was forced to charge, with his guts 
hanging" in festoons between his legs! His belly was again 
ripped open by the bull, and he fell for dead ; but the attend- 
ants obliged him to rise and crawl out ! This seems the crudest 
part of the business ; for the men almost always escape ; but 
the blood and sufferings of thirteen horses were exhibited in the 
short space of two hours. Four men were hurt ; one who was 
entirely overturned with his horse upon him, was carried out 
like a corpse ; but the spectators, totally disregarding this 
melancholy sight, shouted for his companion to renew the at- 
tack. The bull after his first rage, and subsequent fury during 
many rounds, begins to feel weakness, and declines further at- 
tacks on the horsemen. Upon this, a loud shout re-echoes 
through the theatre, and some of the attendants advance arid 
stick his gored neck full of arrows which cause him to writhe 
about in great torment. When the efforts he makes under 
these sufferings have considerably spent his strength, the cor- 
regidor makes a motion with his hand, and the trumpets sound 
as a signai to the matador to despatch him. This is a service 
which requires great skill and bravery; for the madness of 
the bull, and the torture he endures, prompt him to destroy 
every one around. The matador advances with a red cloak in 
one hand, and a sword in the other. He enrages the bull 
with the cloak, till, at length getting opposite to him, he rush- 
es forward, and the sword pierces his spinal marrow, or what 
is more common, is buried to the hilt in his neck ; upon which 
he turns aside, at first moaning, but a torrent of blood gushes 
from his mouth ; and he staggers roanu the arena, and falls. 
The trumpets sound ; three mules, ornamented with ribbons and 
flags, appear, to drag the wretched victim out by the horns, 
and the horsemen prepare for the attack of a fresh animal." 

44 In the evening the show began at half-past four, and ten 
bulls were brought forward. To tame them before the mata- 
dor approached, a new expedient was resorted to, most infa- 
mously cruel, namely, the covering of the darts with sulphur 
and fireworks. The torments of these were so dreadful, that 



320 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGIOX. 



the animals whose strength was fresh, raged about terribly, so 
that the assistants were forced to use great agility to get from 
them. There were many hair-breadth escapes ; one of the 
animals in pursuit of a man, leaped the barrier of the arena, 
which is about eight feet high. A second bull was still more 
furious, and made more tremendous attacks. In one of these 
he pinned the man and horse against the barriers, got his 
horns under the horse, and lacerated him dreadfully; in 
a moment afterwards, he lifted him up, and threw the man 
with such force through one ot the apertures, as to kill him on 
the spot. He was borne past the box in which we were with 
his teeth set, and his side covered with blood; the horse stag- 
gered out spouting a stream of gore from his chest. The re- 
maining picadore renewed the charge, and another came in 
with shouts to take the dead wart's place. One of these had 
his horse's skin dreadfully ripped off his side, and when he 
breathed, the entrails swelled out of the hole ; to prevent 
which, the rider got off and stuffed in his pocket handkerchief," 
&c* — "I have seen," says Bourgoing, "eight or ten horses 
torn, and their bellies ripped open, full and expire in the field 
of battle. Sometimes these horses, affecting models of pa- 
tience, of courage, of docility — present a spectacle, at which 
it may be allowable to shudder. You see them tread under 
their feet, their own bloody entrails, hanging out of their open 
sides, and *i*i obey, for some time the hand that guides them." 

Such are the amusements which, in Spain, fascinate all 
ranks of the community, from the prince to the peasant. 
Young ladies, old men, servant girls, and people of all ages 
and all characters are present. The art of killing a bull, which 
seems exclusively to he the business of a butcher, is gravely 
discussed and exalted with transport, not only by the rabble, 
but by men of sense, and by women of delicacy. The day of 
a bull-fight is a day of solemnity for the whole canton. "The 
people come/' says Bourgoing, "from ten and twelve leagues 
distance. The artisan who can with difficulty earn enough 
for his subsistence, has always sufficient to pay for the bull- 
fight. Wo he to the chastity of a young girl whose poverty 
excludes her! The man who pays for ht r admittance, will 
be her first seducer. It is indeed a very striking sight, to see 
all the inhabitants assemble round the circus, waiting the sig- 
nal for the fight, and wearing in their exterior every sign of 
impatience." There is not a town in Spain, but what has a 

♦Travels through Spain and part of Portugal in 1803, Vol. 2. pp. 35— 
45. A more circumstantial account of these fights, and in perfect ac- 
cordance with the above description, may be seen in Jjourgoing's U M»- 
dern Pi..i* ofSpjua " Vol IJ. po 3 46 W 



SPANISH AMUSEMENTS. 



321 



large square for the purpose of exhibiting bull-fights; and it 
is said, that even the poorest inhabitants of the smallest villa- 
ges will often club together, in order to procure a cow or an 
ox, and fight them riding upon asses for want of horses.* 
Can a spirit of pure benevolence be general among a people 
addicted to such cruel and savage amusements ! And, need we 
wonder to find, that troops of lawless banditti are continually 
prowling among the mountains and forest of that country, 
committing murders and depredations ? One of the authors 
just now quoted, when alluding to banditti, and detailing the 
incidents which occurred on his route to Madrid, says, " in 
this country it is impossible to distinguish friends from foes, 
as all travellers go well armed. We met just here half a 
dozen horsemen, many of whom had swords and pistols, and 
we afterwards saw peasants riding on asses, armed in the 
same way. A few leagues further on, we met a strong de- 
tachment of cavalry patroiing the road, in consequence of a 
daring robbery, which had just been committed on a noble- 
man who was bringing his bride to court from Barcelona. 
He had a numerous retinue; the banditti were twelve in num- 
ber, and completely armed." 

If we now take a cursory glance at our popular literary 
works, and at several of our publications intended for the 
nursery, we shall find that a goodly portion of them is stamp- 
ed with the character of frivolity and of malignity. When 
the young mind is just beginning to expand, instead of being 
irradiated with the beams of unadulterated truth, a group of 
distorted and unsubstantial images, which have no prototypes 
in nature, is presented to the view of the intellect, as the 
groundwork of its future progress in wisdom and knowledge. 
Instead of the simple and sublime precepts of Christian be- 
nevolence, the wild and romantic notions connected with 
chivalry, the superstitions of the dark ages, and the love of 
false heroism, and of military glory, are attempted to be in- 
delibly rivetted on the minds of the young. What else can 
be expected, when such legends and romances as the follow- 
ing, occupy the principal part of the nursery library ? — Blur 
Beard; Cinderella; Tom Thumb; Jack the Giant-Killer ; 
Valentine and Orson ; The Seven Champions of Christendom ; 

* It is said that these fights were prohibited in 1805, to the deep regret 
of thy. most numerous part of tfie nation; but another entertain men t* 
called fiesta de novillos, which is an image of the bull-fight, is still re* 
takir?d; and it. is not improbable, that, by this time > the true bull-fight 
has he*n again revived.. 



322 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



Robin Hood ; Goody Two-Shoes ; Puss in Boots ; Sinbad the 
Sailor ; Aladdin, or, the Wonderful Lamp ; Thalaba, or, the 
Destroyer; The Blood-Red Knight ; The Maid and the Mag- 
pie ; Fairy Tales, and a long list of similar tales and roman- 
ces, equally improving and important \ Such works are pub- 
lished, even at the present time, not only in a Lilliputian size, 
to suit the lower ranks of the community, but in a style of 
splendour and elegance, calculated to fascinate the highest 
circles of society. Ten thousands of copies of such publica- 
tions, are presently in circulation throughout every part of 
the British empire ; — and what is the great object they are cal- 
culated to accomplish? To exhibit distorted views of the scenes 
of nature, and ofhuman society; to foster superstitious notions; 
to inspire the minds of the young with an inordinate desire 
after worldly honour and distinction ; to set before them, as 
an ultimate object, the splendour and felicity of "riding in a 
coach and six ;"' and to familiarize, their minds to chivalrous 
exploits, and to scenes of butchery and revenge. 

If we glance at the popular literary works of the present 
day, intended for the amusement of children of a larger 
growth, we shall find many of them imbued with a similar 
spirit, and having a similar tendency. What is it that just 
now fascinates our literary loungers, our polished gentry, our 
educated females, nay, all ranks of the community, from the 
dignified clergyman to the humble weaver, and which threat- 
ens to destroy all relish for plain unvarnished facts, and for 
substantial knowledge? The novels of Waverley, Guy Man- 
nering, Rob Roy, Tales of my Landlord, The Fortunes of 
Nigel, St. Ronan's Well, — Marmion, The Corsair, Childe 
Harold, and a shoal of similar publications, which are daily 
issuing from the press. And what is the general tendency of 
the great majority of such works ? To distort and carricature 
the facts of real history ; to gratify a romantic imagination ; 
to pamper a depraved mental appetite ; to excite a disrelish 
for the existing scenes of nature, and for the authenticated 
facts which have occurred in the history of mankind ; to hold 
up venerable characters to derision and contempt; to excite 
admiration of the exploits and the malignant principles of 
those rude chieftains, and barbarous heroes* whose names 
ou^ht to descend into everlasting oblivion ; to revive the re- 
vengeful spirit of the dark ages; to undermine a sacred regard 
for truth and moral principle, which are the basis of the hap- 
piness of the intelligent universe; and to throw a false glory 
over scenes of rapine, of bloodshed, and of devastation. — To 
*uch works, and to their admirers, we might apply the worda 



UTILITY OF THE REAL SCENES OF NATURE. 323 



of the ancient Prophet: 44 He feedeth on ashes; a deceived 
heart hath turned him aside, that he cannot say, Is there not 
a lie in my right hand ?" 

44 For, sure, to hug a fancied case* 
That never did, nor can take place, 
And for the pleasures it can give, 
Neglect the k facts of real life,' 
Is madness in its greatest height, 

Or I mistake the matter quite." Wilkie. 

To affirm, that it is necessary for the entertainment of the 
the human mind, to have recourse to fictitious scenes and 
narratives, and to the wild vagaries of an unbridled imagina- 
tion, is, in effect, to throw a reflection upon the plans and the 
conduct of the Creator. It implies, that, in the scenes of 
nature which surround us, both in the heavens and on the 
earth, and in the administrations of his moral government 
among men, God has not produced a sufficient variety of in- 
teresting- objects for the contemplation, the instruction, and 
the entertainment, of the human race — and that the system of 
the moral and physical world must be distorted and deranged, 
and its economy misrepresented and blended with the crea- 
tions of human folly, before its scenery be rendered fit to 
gratify the depraved and fastidious tastes of mankind.* And 
is it indeed true, that there is not a sufficient variety to gratify 
a rational mind in the existing- scenes of creation and provi- 
dence? If we survey the Alpine scenes of nature ; if we ex- 
plore the wonders of the ocean; if we penetrate into the sub- 
terraneous recesses of the globe; if we direct our view to the 
numerous objects of sublimity and of beauty to be found ir> 

* The following sketch of Sir Walter Scott, the supposed author of 
tome of the works alluded to, is given in Ffazlitt's "Spirit of the Age, 
or Contemporary Portraits. 1 ' " His mind receives and treasures up every 
thing brought to it by tradition or custom — it does net project itself be- 
yond this into the world unknown, but mechanically shrinks back as 
from the edge of a ore3ipice. The land of part reason is to his appre- 
hension like Van Hitman's Land, brtrien, miserable, distant, a place cf 
exile, the dreary abodti of savages, convicts, and adventurers. Sir 
Walter would make a ha 1 hand of a description of the millennium, un- 
less he would lay the scene in Scotland 500 years ago; and then ho 
would want facts and vv or; ri^ eaten parchments to support his drooping 
style. Our historical novelist firmly thinks, that nothing is but what 
has been — that the moral world stands still, as the material one was sup- 
posed to do of old — and that we can never get beyond the point where, 
we actually are, without utter destruction, though every thing changes 
and will change, from what it was 300 years ago and what it is now; 
from what it is now, to all that the bigotted admirer of the good old 
times most dreads and hates,.. " 



324 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



every country; if we investigate the structure and economy 
of the animal and the vegetable tribes ; if we raise our eyes 
to the rolling orbs of heaven ; if we look back to the genera- 
tions of old, and trace the history of ancient nations ; if we 
contemplate the present state of civilized and of savage tribes, 
and the moral scenery which is every where displayed around 
us — shall we not find a sufficient variety of every thing which 
is calculated to interest, to instruct, and to entertain a ra- 
tional mind t I am bold to affirm, that were a proper selection 
made of the facts connected with the system of nature, and 
with the history and the present state of human society, and 
were the sketches of such facts executed by the hand of a mas- 
ter, and interspersed with rational and moral reflections — 
volumes might be presented to the public, no less entertain- 
ing, and certainly far more instructive, than all the novels 
and romances which the human imagination has ever pro- 
duced ; and that, too, without distorting a single fact in the 
system of nature or of human society, or exciting a sentiment 
of admiration or of approbation of the exploits of warriors. 
If we wish to be amused with entertaining narrations and 
novel scenes, the narratives of adventurous voyagers and 
travellers, when written with spirit and animation, will supply 
us with entertainment scarcely inferior to that of the best 
written novel; and it is the reader's own fault, if he do not» 
from such sources, derive moral instruction. Such adven- 
tures as those of Mungo Park in Africa, and Captain Coch- 
rane in Siberia, and such narratives as those of Byron,. 
Brisson, Pierre Viaud, Anson, Cook, Bligh, Perouse, and 
others, abound with so many striking and affecting incidents* 
that the reader's attention is kept alive, and he feels as lively 
an interest in the fate of the adventurers, as is usually felt in 
that of the fictitious hero of a novel, or a romance. 

If man were only the creature of a day, whose whole exis- 
tence was confined within the limits of this sublunary scene, 
he might amuse himself either with facts or with fictions, or 
with any toys or gewgaws that happened to strike his fancy 
while he glided down the stream of time to the gulf of oblivion 
But if he is a bring destined for eternity, the train of his 
thoughts ought to be directed to objects corresponding to his 
high destination, and all his amusements blended with those 
moral instructions which have an ultimate reference to the 
scene of his immortal existence. When I read one of our 
modern novels, a enjoy, for a few hours, a transitory amuse- 
ment, in contemplating the scenes of fancy it displays, and in 
followino- the hero through his numerous adventures i lad- 



FUTILITY OF FICTITIOUS SCENES. 325 

nrif^ the force and brilliancy of the imagination of the writer 
(for I am by no means disposed to underrate the intellectual 
talent which has produced some of the works to which I 
allude,) but when I have finished the perusal, and reflect, that 
all the scenes which passed before my mental eye, were only 
so many unsubstantial images, the fictions of a lively imagina- 
tion — I cannot indulge in rational or religious reflections on 
the subject, nor derive a single moral instruction, any more 
than I can do from a dream or a vision of the night. When 
I survey the scenes of creation ; when I read the history of 
ancient nations ; whem I peruse the authentic narratives of 
the voyager and traveller; when I search the records of reve- 
lation ; and when I contemplate the present state of society 
around me, — I learn something of the character, the attributes, 
and the providence of God, and of the moral and physical 
state of mankind. From almost every scene, and every inci- 
dent, I can deduce instructions calculated to promote the ex- 
ercise of humility, meekness, gratitude, and resignation — to 
lead the mind to God as the source of felicity, and as the 
righteous governor of the world — and to impress the heart 
with a sense of the folly and depravity of man. But it is ob- 
vious, that no distinct moral instructions can be fairly deduced 
from scenes, circumstances, and events 44 which never did nor 
can take place."— Such, however, is, at present, the tide of 
public opinion on this subject, that we might as soon attempt 
to stem a mountain torrent by a breath of wind, or to inter- 
rupt the dashings of a mighty cataract by the waving- of our 
hand, as to expect to counteract, by any considerations that 
can be adduced, the current of popular feeling in favour of 
novels, and tales of knights, and of tournaments; of warlike 
chieftains, and military encounters. Such a state of feeling, 
I presume, never can exist in a world where moral evil has 
never shed its malign influence. 

Again, if we consider the sentiments and the conduct of 
many of our Literary and Scientific characters, we shall find 
that even philosophy has had very little influence, in counter- 
acting the stream of malignity, and promoting the exercise of 
benevolence. Do not many of our literary characters in their 
disputes frequently display as keen resentments, and as ma- 
levolent dispositions, as the professed warrior, and the man 
of the world ? and have they not sometimes resorted even to 
horsewhips and to pistols to decide their contests/ In proof 
of this, need I refer to the gentlemen now or formerly con- 
nected with the "Edinburgh Magazine," " Blackwood's 
Magazine," the 44 London Magazine," the " Quarterly Ke^- 

28 



326 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



view," and other periodical works— and to the mean jea- 
lousies and contentions which have been displayed, and the 
scurrilous paragraphs which have been written by various 
descriptions of competitors for literary fame? Such a display 
of temper and conduct in men of professed erudition, is not 
only inconsistent with moral principle, and the dignity of true 
science, but has a tendency to hold up philosophy and sub- 
stantial knowledge to the scorn and contempt both of the 
Christian and of the political world. 

Again, is it an evidence that benevolence forms a promi- 
nent character of modern civilized society, when philanthro- 
pists, who have devoted their substance and their mental ac 
tivities to the promotion of the best interests of mankind ; 
and when men of science, who have enlarged the sphere of 
our knowledge, and improved the useful arts, are suffered to 
pine away in penury and neglect, and to descend into the 
grave, without even a " frail memorial" to mark the spot 
where their mortal remains are deposited ; while, on the war 
rior, who has driven the ploughshare of destruction through 
the world, and wounded the peace of a thousand families, 
enormous pensions are bestowed, and trophies erected to 
perpetuate his memory to future generations ? And how comes 
it to pass, if benevolence and justice be distinguishing features 
of our age and nation, that authors, whose writings afford in- 
struction and entertainment to a numerous public, are fre- 
quently suffered to pine away in anxiety and distress, and to 
remain in hopeless indigence, while publishers and booksel- 
lers are fattening on the fruit of their labours? Yet, while 
we leave them to remain in abject penury, during life, — no 
sooner have their spirits taken their flight into the world un- 
known, than subscriptions are set on foot, statues and mauso- 
leums are erected, flattering inscriptions are engraved on 
their tombs, and anniversary dinners are appointed to cele- 
brate their memories. Such displays of liberality might have 
been of essential benefit to the individuals, while they so- 
journed within the limits of this sublunary sphere ; but they 
are altogether futile and superfluous in relation to the sepa- 
rate spirits, which are now placed forever beyond the reach 
of such vain pageantry and posthumous honours. 

If we now attend, for a little, to the Penal Codes of civilized 
nations, we shall find them, not only glaringly deficient in a 
spirit of benevolence, but deeply imbued with a spirit of 
cruelty and revenge. The great object of all civil punish- 
ments, ought to be, not only the prevention of crimes, but 
also the reformation of the criminal, in order that a conviction 



SYSTEM OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 



327 



of the evil of his conduct may be impressed upon his mind, 
and that he may be restored to society as a renovated charac- 
ter. When punishments are inflicted with a degree of severity 
beyond what is necessary to accomplish these ends, the code 
which sanctions them, becomes an engine of cruelty and of 
injustice. But, the reformation, and the ultimate happiness 
of the criminal, never seem to have been once taken into con- 
sideration, in the construction of the criminal codes of any 
nation in Europe. The infliction of pain, and even of tor- 
ture, and of every thing that is degrading and horrible, to a 
degree far beyond what is necessary for the security of the 
public, and which has no other tendency than to harden the 
culprit, seems to have been the great object of the framers oi 
our penal statutes. If a man has committed an offence against 
society, he is either confined to a jail, thrown into a dungeon, 
loaded with irons, whipped through the streets, banished to a 
distant land, hung upon a gallows, or broken on the wheel. 
No system of moral regimen, calculated to counteract his 
criminal habits, to impart instruction to his mind, and to in- 
duce habits of industry and temperance, (except in a few in- 
sulated cases) has yet been arranged by our legislators, so as 
to render punishment a blessing to the criminal, and to the 
community which he has injured. 

The following circumstances, in relation to punishments, 
manifest a principle both of folly and of malignity in the ar- 
rangements of our criminal jurisprudence. — In the first place, 
The present system of our prison discipline, instead of ope- 
rating to prevent the increase of crime, has a direct and inevi- 
table tendency to produce vice and wretchedness, and to ren- 
der our jails the nurseries of every depraved propensity, and 
of every species of moral turpitude. From the indiscriminate 
association of the young and the old, and of persons charged 
with every degree of criminality, the youthful and inexperi- 
enced culprit is soon tutored in all the arts of fraud, decep 
tion, and robbery, and prepared for acting a more conspicu 
ous and atrocious part on the theatre of crime. " I make no 
scruple to affirm," says Mr. Howard, " that, if it were the 
aim and wish of magistrates to effect the destruction, present 
and future, of young delinquents, they could not desire a 
more effectual method than to confine them in our prisons." 
Of the truth of this position, the reader will find an ample 
and impressive proof in the Honourable T. F. Buxton's 44 In- 
quiry whether crime and misery are produced or prevented 
by our present system of Prison Discipline." 

In the second place, The disproportion between crimes 



328 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



and punishments, and the sanguinary character of every 
civilized code of penal statutes, are directly repugnant to 
every principle of justice and benevolence. The punishment 
assigned by the law to the man who steals a sheep, or pilfers 
a petty article of merchandise, is the same as that whieh it 
inflicts on the miscreant, who has imbrued his hands in his 
father's blood. In France, prior to the revolution, the pun- 
ishment of robbery, either with or without murder, was the 
same ; and hence it happened, that robbery was seldom or 
never perpetrated without murder. For, when men see no 
distinction made in the nature and gradations of punishment, 
they will be generally led to conclude, that there is no dis- 
tinction in the guilt. In our own country, it is a melancholy 
truth, that, among the variety of actions which men are daily 
liable to commit, no less than one hundred and sixty have 
been declared, by act of parliament, to be felonies, without 
benefit of clergy ; or, in other words, to be worthy of instant 
death.* It is an indelible disgrace to an age which boasts ol 
its being enlightened with the beams of science and of reli- 
gion, that laws, framed in an ignorant and barbarous age, and 
intended to apply to temporary or fortuitous occurrences, 
should still be acted upon, and stand unrepealed in the crimi- 
nal codes of the nations of Europe, in the i 9th century of the 
Christian era, when so many distinguished writers have de- 
monstrated their futility, their injustice, and their inadequacy 
for the prevention of crime. For, instead of diminishing the 
number of offenders, experience proves, that crimes are al- 
most uniformly increased, by an undue severity of punish- 
ment. This was strikingly exemplified in the reign of Henry 
VIII. remarkable for the abundance of it& crimes, which cer- 
tainly did not arise from the mildness of punishment. In that 
reign alone, says his historian, seventy-two thousand execu- 
tions took place, for robberies alone, exclusive of the religious 
murders which are known to have been numerous, — amount- 
ing, on an average, to six executions a day, Sundays included, 
during the whole reign of that monarch. 

In the next place, The shocking and unnecessary cruelties 
which are frequently invicted upon criminals, are inconsistent 
with every principle of reason and of justice, and revolting to 
every feeling of humanity. If the forfeiture of life, ought, in 
any ease, to be resorted to as the punishment of certain crimes, 
humanity dictates, that it should be accompanied with as little 
pain as possible to the unfortunate criminal. But, man, even 



* Ency. Brit. Art v Crtme s 



SHOCKING CRUELTIES. 



329 



civilized man, has glutted his savage disposition, by inventing 
tortures to agonize his fellow-man, at which humanity shud- 
ders. It is not enough, that a poor unfortunate wretch, in 
the prime of life, whom depravity has hurried to the commis- 
sion of crime, should be deprived of his mortal existence, — his 
soul must be harrowed up at the prospect of the prolonged 
torments which he must endure, before his spirit is permitted 
to take its flight to the world unknown. Instead of simply 
strangling or beheading the unhappy criminal, his flesh must 
be torn with pincers, his bones dislocated, his hands chopped 
off, or his body left to pine away in exquisite torments, amidst 
devouring flames. In Sweden, murder is punished by be- 
heading and quartering, after having previously chopped off 
the hand. In Germany, Poland, Italy, and other parts of the 
continent, it was customary, and, I believe, still is, in some 
places, to put criminals to death, by breaking them alive on 
the wheel. The following account is given, by a traveller, 
who was in Berlin, in 1819, of the execution of a man for 
murder, which shows that the execution of criminals, in Prus 
sia, is frequently distinguished by a species of cruelty worthy 
of the worst days of the inquisition. Amidst the parade of 
executioners, officers of police, and other judicial authorities, 
the beating of drums, and the waving of flags and colours, the 
criminal mounted the scaffold. No ministers of religion ap- 
peared to gild the horrors of eternity, and to soothe the ago 
nies of the criminal ; and no repentant prayer closed his quiv- 
ering lips. 46 Never," says the narrator, " shall I forget the 
one bitter look of imploring agony that he threw around him, 
as immediately on stepping on the scaffold, his coat was rude- 
ly torn from off his shoulders. He was then thrown down, 
the cords fixed round his neck, which were drawn until stran- 
gulation almost commenced. Another executioner then ap- 
proached, bearing in his hands a heavy wheel, bound with 
iron, with which he violently struck the legs, arms, and chest, 
and lastly the head of the criminal. I was unfortunately near 
enough to witness his mangled and bleeding body still con- 
vulsed. It was then carried down for interment, and, in less 
than a quarter of an hour from the beginning of his torture, 
the corpse was completely covered with earth. Several large 
stones, which were thrown upon him, hastened his last gasp ' 
he was mangled into eternity!" 

In Russia, the severest punishments are frequently inflicted 
for the most trivial offences. The knout is one of the most 
common punishments in that country. This instrument is a 
thong made of the skin of an elk or of a wild ass, so hard that 

2S* 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGIONV 



a single stroke is capable of cutting the flesh to the bone 
The following description is given by Olearius of the mannei 
in which he saw tha knout inflicted on eight men, and one 
woman, only for selling brandy and tobacco without a license. 
"The executioner's man, after stripping them down to the 
w r aist, tied their feet, and took one at a time on his back. The 
executioner stood at three paces distance, and, springing for- 
ward with the knout in his hand, — whenever he struck, the 
blood gushed out at every blow. The men had each twenty- 
five or twenty-six lashes ; the woman, though only sixteen, 
fainted away. After their backs were thus dreadfully man- 
gled, they were tied together two and two ; and those who sold 
tobacco having a little of it, and those who sold brandy a little 
bottle put about their necks; they were then whipped through 
the city of Petersburgh for about a mile and a half, and then 
brought back to the place of their punishment, and dismissed/' 
That is what is termed the moderate knout ; for when it i& 
given with the utmost severity, the executioner, striking the 
flank under the ribs, cuts the flesh to the bowels ; and, there 
fore, it is no wonder that many die of this inhuman punish- 
ment. — The punishment of the pirates and robbers who infest 
the banks of the Wolga, is another act of savage cruelty com- 
mon to Russia. A float is built, whereon a gallows is erected, 
on which is fastened a number of iron hooks, and on these the 
wretched criminals are hung alive by the ribs. The float is 
then launched into the stream, and orders are given to all the 
towns and villages on the borders of the river, that none, upon 
pain of death, shall afford the least relief to any of these 
wretches. These malefactors sometimes hang, in this man- 
ner, three, four, and even five days alive. The pain produces 
a raging fever, in which they utter the most horrid impreca- 
tions, imploring the relief of water and other liquors.* During 
the reign of Peter the Great, the robbers who infested various 
parts of his dominions^ particularly the banks of the Wolga, 
were hung up in this manner by hundreds and thousands, and 
left to perish in the most dreadful manner. Even yet, the 
boring of the tongue, and the cutting of it out, are practised in 
this country as an inferior species of punishment. Such cruel 
punishments, publicly inflicted, can have no other tendency 
than to demoralize the minds of the populace, to blunt their 
natural feelings, and to render criminal characters still more 
desperate : and hence we need not wonder at what travellers 

* See Hanway's " Travels through Russia and Persia" — Salmon'* 
14 fcesent State of all Nations," vol. q*. Guthrie's Geography, 



CRUEL PUNISHMENTS. 



331 



affirm respecting the Russians, that they are very indifferent 
as to life or death, and undergo capital punishments with un- 
paralleled apathy and indolence. 

Even among European nations more civilized than the Rus- 
sians, similar tortures have been inflicted upon criminals. The 
execution of Damiens, in 1757, for attempting to assassinate 
Louis XV. King of France, was accompanied with tortures, 
the description of which is sufficient to harrow up the feelings 
of the most callous mind — tortures, which could scarcely have 
been exceeded in intensity and variety, although they had 
been devised and executed by the ingenuity of an infernal 
fiend. And yet, they were beheld with a certain degree of 
apathy by a surrounding populace ; and even counsellors and 
physicians could talk together about the best mode of tearing 
asunder the limbs of the wretched victim, with as much com- 
posure as if they had been dissecting a dead subject, or carv- 
ing a pullet. Even in Britain, at no distant period, similar 
cruelties were practised. Those who are guilty of high trea- 
son are condemned, by our law, 44 to be hanged on a gallows, 
for some minutes ; then cut down, while yet alive, the heart to 
be taken out and exposed to view, and the entrails burned." 
Though the most cruel part of this sentence has never been 
actually inflicted in our times, yet it is a disgrace to Britons 
that such a statute should still stand unrepealed in our penal 
code.— The practice, too, of torturing supposed criminals for 
the purpose of extorting a confession of guilt, was, till a late 
period, common over all the countries of Europe; and, if I am 
not mistaken, is still resorted to, in several parts of the Contw 
nent. Hence, Baron Bielf eld, in his 44 Elements of Universal 
Erudition," published in 1770, lays down as one of the 
branches of criminal jurisprudence, 44 The different kinds of 
tortures for the discovery of truth" Such a practice is not 
only cruel and unjust, but absurd in the highest degree, and 
repugnant to every principle of reason. For, as the Mar- 
quis Beccaria has well observed, 44 It is confounding all rela- 
tions to expect that a man should be both the accuser, and the 
accused, and that pain should be the test of truth; as if truth 
resided in the muscles and fibres of a wretch in torture. By 
this method, the robust will escape, and the feeble be con- 
demned. — To discover truth by this method, is a problem 
which may be better resolved by a mathematician than a 
judge, and may be thus stated : The force of the muscles and 
the sensibility of the nerves of an innocen t person being given*. 



332 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



it is required to find the degree of pain necessary to make him 
confess himself guilty of a given crime"* 

If the confined limits of the present work had admitted, I 
might have prosecuted these illustrations to a much greater 
extent. I might have traced the operations of malevolence in 
the practice of that most shocking and abominable traffic, the 
Slave Trade — the eternal disgrace of individuals and of na- 
tions calling themselves civilized. This is an abomination 
which has been encouraged by almost every nation in Europe, 
and even by the enlightened States of America. And although 
Great Britain has formally prohibited, by a law, the importa- 
tion of slaves from Africa ; yet, in all her West Indian colo- 
nies, slavery in its most cruel and degrading forms still exists ; 
and every proposition, and every plan for restoring the ne- 
groes to their natural liberty, and to the rank which they hold 
in the scale of existence, is pertinaciously resisted by gentle- 
men planters, who would spurn at the idea of being considered 
as either infidels or barbarians. They even attempt to de- 
prive these degraded beings of the chance of obtaining a hap- 
pier existence in a future world, by endeavouring to withhold 

* See Beccaria's " Essay on Crimes and Punishments," p. 52. 56. The 
following is a brief summary of the principal punishments that have 
been adopted by men, in different countries, for tormenting and destroy- 
ing each other. Capital punishments — Beheading, strangling, crucifix- 
ion, drowning, burning, roasting, hanging by the neck, the arm, or the 
leg ; starving, sawing, exposing to wild beasts, rending asunder by horses 
drawing opposite ways ; shooting, burying alive, blowing from the mouth 
of a cannon, compulsory deprivation of sleep, rolling in a barrel stuck 
with nails, cutting to pieces*, hanging by the ribs, poisoning, pressing 
slowly to death, by a weight laid on the breast ; casting headlong from 
a rock, tearing out the bowels, pulling to pieces with red hot pincers, 
stretching on the rack, breaking on the wheel, impaling, flaying alive, 
cutting out. the heart, &c. 8zc. Szc. Punishments short of death have 
been such as the following. Fine, pillory, imprisonment; compulsory 
labour at the mines, galleys, highways, or correction-house ; whipping, 
bastonading ; mutilation by cutting away the ears, the nose, the tongue, 
the breasts of women, the foot, the hand; squeezing the marrow from 
the bones with screws or wedges, castration, putting out the eyes; ban- 
ishment, running the gauntlet, drumming, shaving off the hair, burning 
on the hand or forehead ; and many others of a similar nature. Could 
the ingenuity of the inhabitants of Tophct have invented punishments 
more cruel and revolting? Has any one of these modes of punishment a 
tendency to reform the criminal, and promote his happiness? On the 
contrary, have they not all a direct tendency to irritate, to harden, and to 
excite feelings of revenge? Nothing shows the malevolent dispositions 
of a great portion of the human race, in so striking a light, as the pun- 
ishments they have inflicted on oneanother; for these arc characteristic, 
not of insulated individuals only, but of nations^ in their collective 
capacity 



SLAVE TRADE. 



333 



from them the means of instruction, and by persecuting their 
instructors. " In Demerara alone there are 76,000 immortal 
souls linked to sable bodies, while there are but 3,500 whites ; 
and yet, for the sake of these three thousand whites, the 
seventy-six thousand, with all their descendants, are to be 
kept in ignorance of the way of salvation, for no other purpose 
than to procure a precarious fortune for a very few individuals 
out of their sweat and blood." Is such conduct consistent 
with the spirit of benevolence, or even with the common feel- 
ings of humanity ? — I might have traced the same malignant 
principle, in the practice of a set of men denominated wreckers, 
who, by setting up false lights, allure mariners to destruction, 
that they may enrich themselves by plundering the wrecks — 
in the warlike dispositions of all the governments of Europe, 
and the enormous sums which have been expended in the work 
of devastation, and of human destruction, while they have re- 
fused to give the least direct encouragement to philanthropic 
institutions, and to the improvement of the community in 
knowledge and virtue — an in that spirit of tyranny, and thirst 
for despotic power, which have led them to crush the rising 
intelligence of the people, and to lend a deaf ear to their most 
reasonable demands. For, there is no government on this 
side of the Atlantic, so far as I know, that has ever yet formed 
an institution for promoting the objects of general benevolence, 
for counteracting the baleful effects of depravity and igno 
ranee, and for enlightening the minds of the people in useful 
knowledge ; or which has even contributed a single mite to 
encourage such institutions after they were set on foot by the 
people themselves. Knowledge is simply permitted to be 
diffused ; it is never directly encouraged ; its progress is fre- 
quently obstructed; and, in some instances, it is positively 
interdicted, as appears from the following barbarous edict, 
published in the year 1825. — " A royal Sardinian Edict directs, 
that henceforth no person shall learn to read or write who can- 
not prove the possession of property above the value of 1500 
livres, (or about £60 sterling.) The qualification for a stu- 
dent is the possession of an income to the same amount."* 
Such is the firm determination of many of the kings and 
princes of Europe to hold their subjects in abject slavery and 
ignorance; and such is the desperate tendency of proud am- 
bition, that they will rather suffer their thrones to shake and 
totter beneath them, than give encouragement to liberal opi- 
nions, and to the general diffusion of knowledge. — But, instead 

* Hamburgh Paper, August, 1825. 



334 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



of illustrating such topics in minute detail, T shall conclude this 
section by presenting a few miscellaneous facts, tending to 
corroborate several of the preceding statements, and to illus 
trate the moral state of the civilized world, 

The following statement, extracted from " Neale's Travel, 
through Germany, Poland, Moldavia, and Turkey," exhibits & 
faint picture of the state of morals in Poland. "If ever there 
was a country," says Mr. Neale, " where 1 might constitutes 
right,' that country was Poland, prior to its partition." The 
most dreadful oppression, the most execrable tyranny, the 
most wanton cruelties were daily exercised by the nobles upon 
the unfortunate peasants. — Let us quote a few facts; they will 
speak volumes. A Polish peasant's life was held of the same 
value with one of his horned cattle; if his lord slew him, he 
was fined only 100 Polish florins, or £2 : 16, sterling. If, on 
the other hand, a man of ignoble birth dared to raise his hand 
against a nobleman, death was the inevitable punishment. If 
any one presumed to question the nobility of a magnate, he 
was forced to prove his assertion, or suffer death : nay, if a 
powerful man chose to take a fancy to the field of his humbler 
neighbour, and to erect a landmark upon it, and if that land- 
mark remained for three days, the poor man lost his posses- 
sion. The atrocious cruelties that were habitually exercised, 
are hardly credible. A Masalki caused his hounds to devour 
a peasant who happened to frighten his horse. A Radzivil 
had the belly of one of his subjects ripped open, to thrust his 
feet into it, hoping thereby to be cured of a malady that had 
tormented him. 

One of the most infallible signs of a degraded state of mo- 
rals in any country, is the corrupt administration of justice. 
As specimens of Polish justice, Mr. Neale mentions the case 
of a merchant of Warsaw, whom it cost 1400 ducats to pro- 
cure the conviction and execution of two robbers who had 
plundered him ; and another case still more flagrant, that of a 
peasant who had apprehended an assassin, and who, on taking 
him to the Staroste, was coolly dismissed with the prisoner, 
and the corpse of the murdered person which he had brought 
in his wagon ; because he had not ten ducats — the fee demand- 
ed by the magistrate for his interference. — " During the reign 
of Stanislaus Poniatowsky, a petty noble having refused to 
resign to Count Thisenhaus his small estate, the Count invited 
him to dinner, as if desirous of amicably adjusting the affair; 
and whilst the knight, in the pride of his heart at such unex- 
pected honour, assiduously plied the bottle, the Count des- 
patched some hundreds of peasants with axes, ploughs, and 



STATE OF MORALS IN CUBA. 



335 



wagons, ordering the village, which consisted only of a few 
wooden buildings, to be pulled down, the materials carried 
away, and the plough to be passed over the ground which the 
village had occupied. This was accordingly done. The no- 
bleman, on his return home in the evening, could find neither 
road, house, nor village. The master and his servant were 
alike bewildered, and knew not whether they were dreaming 
or had lost the power of discrimination ; but their surprise and 
agony were deemed so truly humorous, that the whole court 
was delighted with the joke !" How depraved must be the 
state of moral feeling, when the injustice inflicted upon fellow- 
creatures, and the miseries they endure, become the subjects 
of merriment and derision! — 46 The morals of the people of 
Poland," says Mr. Neale, "were, and continue to be, nearly at 
the lowest point of debasement. Female chastity is a pheno- 
menon ; while the male sex are proportionally profligate. 
Drunkenness, gluttony, and sensuality, prevail to a degree 
unknown in other countries in Europe." 

The following extract from Mr. Howison's "Foreign Scenes 
and Travelling Recreations," will convey some idea of the 
state of morals in the island of Cuba. " Nothing can be 
worse," says Mr. H., "than the state of society in Havana. 
The lower classes are all alike dissolute and unprincipled. As- 
sassinations are so frequent that they excite little attention ; 
and assault and robbery are matters of course, when a man 
passes alone and at night through a solitary quarter of the 
town. Several assassinations take place in the streets every 
week." This depraved and lawless state of things may be 
ascribed to three causes : the inefficiency of the police ; the 
love of gaming and dissipation which prevails among the low- 
er orders ; and the facility with which absolution of the great- 
est crimes may be obtained from the priests. In fact, the 
Catholic religion, as it now exists in Cuba, tends to encourage 
rather than to check vice. We shall suppose, for example, 
that a man makes himself master of 100 dollars by robbing or 
by murdering another ; and that the church grants him abso- 
lution for half the sum thus lawlessly obtained ; it is evident 
that he will gain 50 dollars by the whole transaction, and think 
himself as innocent as he was before he committed the crime. 
No man need mount the Havana scaffold, whatever be his 
crime, if he has the means of ministering to the rapacity of 
the church, and of bribing the civil authorities. A poor 
friendless criminal is executed in a few days after sentence is 
pronounced upon him ; but a person of wealth and influence 
generally manages to put off capital punishment for a series of 



336 



THE FiliLC^QirsY Of RELIGION. 



years, and at last get it commuted to fine and imprisonment. 
Of these depraved practices, Mr. Hevvison states several strik- 
ing examples. — Those statements of Mr. H. in reference to 
.he moral state of Cuba, I find corroborated by a short account 
of this island in the Monthly Magazine for March 1820, page 
120. " They act here very frequently those sacred mysteries 
which so delighted our good forefathers. I have witnessed 
(says tbe writer) the triumph of the Ave Maria, a tragicome- 
dy, which closes with the sudden appearance, in the midst of 
a theatre, of a chivalrous worthy, mounted on a real horse, 
shaking at the end of a lance the bloody head of 'an infidel. 
This horrid exhibition excited a titter of enjoyment in all the 
spectators. The ladies, in particular, seemed to be highly en- 
tertained ; — no fainting fits, no nervous attacks. How could 
a mere fiction agonize the blunt feelings of women, hardened 
by the spectacle of bull-fights, and almost everyday meeting 
with the dead body of some human being who has been assas- 
sinated r 

There is no situation in which human beings can be placed, 
where we should more naturally expect the manifestation of 
benevolent affections, than in those scenes of danger where all 
are equally exposed to deep distress, and where the exercise 
of sympathy and kindness is the only thing that can alleviate 
the anguish of the mind. When the prospect of immediate 
death, or of prolonged agonies even more dreadful than the 
simple pain of dissolution, is full before the mind, one should 
think that ferocious dispositions would be instantly curbed, 
and kindly affections begin to appear. Yet, even in such situ- 
ations, it frequently happens, that feelings of malevolence and 
revenge, and all the depraved passions, are most powerfully 
excited to action. — The following facts will tend to illustrate 
this remark. Mr. Byron was shipwrecked, in a violent storm 
on the coast of South America. A mountainous sea broke 
over the ship ; she was laid on her beam ends ; darkness sur- 
rounded them ; nothing was to be seen but breakers ali around; 
and every soul on board looked upon the present minute as 
his last. ' : So terrible was the scene of foaming breakers 
around us," says Mr. B. "that one of the bravest men wc had 
could not help expressing his dismay at it, saying, it was too 
shocking a sight to bear." Even in this dreadful situation, 
malignant passions began to appear; and, like the dashing 
waves around, to rage with unbounded violence. No sooner 
had the morning thrown a ray of light over the dismal gloom* 
and a faint glimpse of land was perceived, than many of the 
crew who, but a few minutes before, had shewn the strongest 



DEPRAVITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER 



337 



signs of despair, and were on their knees praying for mercy, 
" grew extremely riotous, broke open every chest and box that 
was at hand, stove in the heads of casks of brandy and wine, 
and got so drunk that some of them were drowned on board, 
and lay floating about the decks for some days after." After 
the greater part, to the number of 150 persons, had got to 
shore — " the boatswain and some of the people would not 
leave the ship so long as there was any liquor to be got at ; 
they fell to beating every thing to pieces that came in their 
way, and carrying their intemperance to the greatest excess, 
broke open chests and cabins for plunder that could be of no 
use to them. So earnest were they in this wantonness of 
theft, that one man had evidently been murdered on account 
of some division of the spoil, or for the sake of the share that 
fell to him, having all the marks of a strangled corpse." The 
same malignant dispositions were displayed, in numerous in- 
stances, during their abode on the desolate and barren island 
on which they had been thrown, notwithstanding the hunger, 
the rains, the cold, and the attacks of wild beasts to which 
they were all equally exposed.* 

There is, perhaps, no occurrence that has happened in mo- 
dern times, which so strikingly displays the desperate malig 
nity of human beings in the midst of danger, as the conduct 
of the crew of the Medusa Frigate, while tossing on the raft 
by which they endeavoured to save themselves, after that ves- 
sel had been shipwrecked. The Medusa was stranded, in the 
month of June, 1816, on the bank of Arguin, near the western 
coast of Africa. A raft was hastily constructed, which was 
but scantily supplied with provisions. There were five boats, 
which contained in all about 240 persons ; and upon the raft, 
there embarked about 150 individuals. The boats pushed off 
in a line, towing the raft, and assuring the people on board 
that they would conduct them safely to land. They had not 
proceeded, however, above two leagues from the wreck, when 
they, one by one, east off the tow lines, and abandoned the 
raft to its fate. By this time the raft had sunk below the sur- 
face of the water to the depth of three feet and a half, and the 
people were so squeezed one against another, that it was found 
impossible to move ; fore and aft they were up to the middle 
in water. Night at length came on ; the wind freshened ; the 
sea began to swell; about midnight the weather became very 
stormy, and the waves broke over them in every direction. 
Tossed by the waves from one end to the other, and some- 

* See Byron's "Narrative of the Loss of the Wager Man of War." 
29 



338 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



times precipitated into the sea; floating between life and death; 
mourning over their own misfortunes ; certain of perishing, 
yet contending for the remains of existence with that cruel 
element which menaced to swallow them up — such was their 
iicuation till break of day, when a dreadful spectacle presented 
: tself. Ten or twelve unhappy men, having their extremities 
• ammed between the spars of the raft, had perished in that 
situation, and others had been swept away by the violence of 
die waves. — All this, however, was nothing to the dreadful 
scene which took place the following night. 44 Already," says 
ne narrator, "was the moral character of the people greatly 
changed. A spirit of sedition spread from man to man, and 
manifested itself by the most furious shouts." .Night came on; 
ne heavens were obscured with thick clouds ; the wind rose, 
and with it the sea ; the waves broke over them every moment; 
numbers were swept away, and several poor wretches w r ere 
mothered by the pressure of their comrades. Both soldiers 
ind sailors resolved to soothe their last moments by drinking 
o excess ; they became deaf to the voice of reason ; boldly 
Jeclared their intention of murdering their officers ; and, cut- 
wing the ropes which held the rafts together, one of them seiz- 
ing an axe, actually began the dreadful work. The officers 
rushed forward to quell the tumult, and the man with the hatch- 
et was the first that fell — the stroke of a sabre terminated 
his existence. One fellow was detected secretly cutting the 
ropes, and was immediately thrown overboard ; others de- 
stroyed the shrouds and haulyards ; and the mast, destitute of 
support, immediately fell on a captain of infantry, and broke 
his thigh ; he was instantly seized by the soldiers and 
thrown into the sea, but was saved by the opposite party. 
About an hour after midnight the insurrection burst forth anew. 
They rushed upon the officers like desperate men, each having 
a knife or a sabre in his hand ; and such was the fury of the 
assailants, that they tore their flesh, and even their clothes 
with their teeth. There was no time for hesitation ; a gene 
ral slaughter took place, and the raft was strewed with dead 
bodies. On the return of day, it was found that, in the course 
of the preceding night of horror, sixty-five of the mutineers 
had perished, and two of the small party attached to the offi- 
cers. A third night of horror approached, distinguished by 
the piercing cries of those whom hunger and thirst devoured ; 
and the morning's sun showed them a dozen unfortunate crea- 
tures stretched lifeless on the raft. The fourth night was 
marked by another massacre. Some Spariards and Italians 
conspired to throw the rest into the sea. A Spaniard was the 



DEPRAVITY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. 



339 



first to advance with a drawn knife ; the sailors seized him 
and threw him into the sea. The Italian seeing this, jumped 
overboard ; the rest were mastered, and order was restored. 
But, before the ship Argus came to their relief, of the 150 that 
embarked on the raft, 15 unhappy creatures only remained, 
covered with wounds and bruises, almost naked, stripped of 
their skin, shrivelled with the rays of the sun, their eyes hol- 
low, and their countenances savage. — Such are the dreadful 
effects of malignity, which produces more sufferings and fatal 
effects, than the most tremendous elements of nature ! 

A certain portion of the same spirit was lately displayed, by 
several individuals, on board of the Kent East Indiaman. In 
the midst of a most violent gale, in the Bay of Biscay, when the 
sea was running mountains high, this vessel, containing about 
600 persons, took fire, in consequence of the spirits from a 
stoved cask having communicated with a lamp ; and all hopes 
of safety became extinguished, till the ship Cambria, Captain 
Cooke, hove in sight. But the danger of passing from one ship 
to the other, in boats, in such a tempestuous sea, rendered the 
preservation of the passengers and crew in a degree doubtful. 
Yet, in the midst of the danger, the alarm and the anguish which 
accompanied this tremendous scene, we are told by the narra- 
tor, page 24, that "it was suspected that one or two of those 
who perished, must have sunk under the weight, of their spoils ; 
the same individuals having been seen eagerly plundering the 
cuddy cabins." And, a little afterwards, page 31, he adds: 
" Some time after the shades of night had enveloped us, I de- 
scended to the cuddy in quest of a blanket to shelter me from the 
increasing cold, and the scene of desolation that there present- 
ed itself was melancholy in the extreme. The place, which 
only a few short hours before had been the seat of kindly inter- 
course, and of social gaiety, was now entirely deserted, save by 
a few miserable wretches, who were either stretched in irreco- 
verable intoxication on the floor, or prowling about, like beasts 
of prey, in search of plunder."* 

* See a " Narrative of the Loss of the Kent East Indiaman, by fire, in 
the Bay of Biscay, on the 1st of March, 1325, by a Passenger," suppos- 
ed to be Major Macgregor. — The humanity and intrepidity displa}'ed, 
amidst the heart-rending scene which this narrative describes — by Cap- 
tain Cobb of the Kent; by Messrs. Thompson, Fearon, Macgregor, and 
the other officers, and many of the soldiers; by Captain Cooke of the 
Cambria, his crew, and the Cornish miners — is above all praise. Their 
benevolent and heroic conduct at that alarming crisis, is far more deserv- 
ing of a public monument being raised for its commemoration, than that 



340 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION* 



The following is a short description of the moral character 
of the inhabitants of Carolina, and of one of the amusements 
of a people who boast of their liberty and their civilization, — 
as it is found in "Morse's American Geography." "The 
citizens of North Carolina who are not better employed, spend 
their time in drinking, or gaming at cards or dice, in cock- 
fighting, or horse-racing. Many of the interludes are filled 
up with a boxing match ; and these matches frequently be- 
come memorable by feats of gouging. This delicate and en- 
tertaining diversion is thus performed : When two boxers are 
worried with fighting and bruising each other, they come, as 
it is called, to close quarters ; and each endeavours to twist 
his fore-fingers in the ear-locks of his antagonist. When 
these are fast clenched, the thumbs are extended each way to 
the nose, and the eyes gently twined out of their sockets. The 
victor, for his expertness, receives shouts of applause from the 
sporting throng, while his poor eyeless antagonist is laughed 
at for his misfortune. In a country that pretends to any de- 
gree of civilization, one would hardly expect to find a pre- 
vailing custom of putting out the eyes of each other. Yet 
this more than barbarous custom is prevalent in both the 
Carolinas, and in Georgia among the lower class of people." 
— 64 Lord, what is man !" In a savage and a civilized state — 
in infancy and in manhood — -in his games and diversions — in 
the instructions by which he is trained — in the remarks he 
makes upon his neighbours — in the sports and amusements 
in which he indulges — in his literary pursuits and lucubra- 
tions — in his system of rewards and punishments — in his in- 
tercourses and contests with communities and nations — in his 
commercial transactions — in his judicial administrations — in 
the height of prosperity — and in scenes of danger, and of the 
deepest distress, — a principle of malignity is for ever ope 
rating to destroy his comforts, and to undermine the founda 
tion of his happiness ! 

The above sketches may suffice, in the mean time, as speci 
mens of some of the prominent dispositions of that portion of 

of many of our military heroes, in honour of whom so many trophies 
have been erected. If men, who have been instrumental in destroying 
the lives and the happiness of hundreds and of thousands, have pensions 
bestowed on them, and are exalted to posts of honour, surely those who 
have exerted their energies in preserving the lives of hunn.cds, and in 
preventing the anguish of thousands, ought not to be su'iered to sink 
into oblivion, or to pass unrewarded. It is, I presume, one reason among 
others, why virtue is so little practised* that it is seldem rewarded ar- 
cording to its merit. 



MORAL STATE OF THE CHRISTIAN WORLD. 341 



the human race who have assumed to themselves the charac- 
ter of civilized nations. It will readily be admitted, by most 
of my readers, that the dispositions displayed in the instances 
I have selected, are all directly repugnant to the principle of 
benevolence recognised in the divine law, and tend to under- 
mine the happiness of intelligent beings. — I shall now con- 
clude with a very brief sketch of the conduct of Christians, 
and of Christian societies towards each other, and of the lead- 
ing traits of character which appear in the religious world. 



SECTION IV. 

Moral state of the professing Christian world. 

I have already endeavoured to show, that Christianity is a 
religion of love ; that its facts, its doctrines, and its moral pre- 
cepts, are all calculated to promote " peace on earth," and to 
form mankind into one affectionate and harmonious society. 
This glorious and happy effect, in the first instance, it actually 
produced. We are told, in the history of the Apostles, that 
the multitudes who were converted to the Christian faith, by 
the powerful sermon delivered by Peter on the day of Pente- 
cost, had their malignant propensities subdued, and their 
minds animated with an ardent affection for each other: and, 
as a practical proof of the operation of this noble principle, 
"they had all things common, and sold their possessions and 
goods, and parted them to all, as every man had need." 
During the early ages of Christianity, a goodly portion of the 
same spirit was manifested by the greater part of those who 
had enrolled themselves as the disciples of Christ. Even in 
the midst of the reproaches, and the severe persecutions to 
which they were subjected during the two first centuries of 
the Christian era, a meek and forgiving disposition, and a 
spirit of benevolence towards one another, and towards all 
men, distinguished them from the heathen around, and con- 
strained even their enemies to exclaim, 44 Behold how these 
Christians love one another !" — But no sooner was the Chris- 
tian Church amalgamated with the kingdoms of this world, in 
the reign of Constantino, than its native purity began to be 
tainted, and Pagan maxims, and worldly ambition, began to 
be blended with the pure precepts and the sublime doctrines 

39* 



342 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION' 



of'the Gospel. Many of its professed adherents, overlooking 
the grand practical bearings of the Christian system, began to 
indulge in vain speculations on its mysterious doctrines; to 
substitute a number of unmeaning rites and ceremonies in the 
room of love to God and to man ; and even to persecute and 
destroy all those who refused to submit to their opinions and 
decisions. Pride, and a desire of domination, usurped the place 
of meekness and humility; and the foolish mummeries of mo- 
nastic superstition, and the austerities of the Ascetics, were 
substituted in the room of the active duties of justice and be- 
neficence. Saints were deified ; the power of the clergy was 
augmented ; celibacy was extolled ; religious processions were 
appointed; pilgrimages were undertaken to the tombs of the 
martyrs; monasteries and nunneries, without number, were 
erected ; prayers were offered up to departed saints ; the 
Virgin Mary was recognised as a species of inferior deity \ 
the sign of the cross was venerated as capable of securing 
victory in all kinds of trials and calamities, and as the surest 
defence against the influence of malignant spirits; the bishops 
aspired after wealth, magnificence, and splendour ; errors in 
religion were punished with civil penalties and bodily tortures; 
and the most violent disputes and contentions convulsed every 
section of the Christian world ; while the mild and beneficent 
virtues of the religion of Jesus were either discarded, or 
thrown into the shade. 

Of these, and similar dispositions and practices, details 
might be exhibited which would fill many volumes, and which 
would carry conviction to every impartial mind, that the true 
glory of Christianity was sadly tarnished and obscured, and 
its heavenly spirit almost extinguished amidst the mass of su- 
perstitious observances, of vain speculations, and of angry 
feuds and contentions. Millot, when adverting to the state of 
the Church in the days of Constantine, and the succeeding 
emperors, justly remarks :. "The disciples of Christ were in- 
spired with mutual feuds, still more implacable and destruc- 
tive than the factions which were formed for or against differ- 
ent emperors. The spirit of contention condemned by St. 
Paul became almost universal. New sects sprung up inces- 
santly, and combated each other. Each boasted its apostles, 
gave its sophisms for divine oracles, pretended to be the de- 
pository of the faith, and used every effort to draw the multi- 
tude to its standard. The church was filled with discord : 
bishops anathematized bishops ; violence was called in to the 
aid of argument, and the folly of princes fanned the flame 
which spread with so destructive rage. They played the 



EARLY AGES OF CHRISTIANITY. 



343 



theologists, attempted to command opinions, and punished 
those whom they could not convince. The laws against 
idolaters were soon extended to heretics; but what one em- 
peror proscribed as heretical, was to another sound doctrine. 
What was the consequence I The clergy, whose influence was 
already great at court, and still greater among the people, 
began to withdraw from the sovereign authority that respect 
which religioR inspires. The popular ferments being height- 
ened by the animosity of the clergy, prince, country, law, and 
duty, were no longer regarded. Men were Arians, Donatists, 
Priseillianists, Nestorians, Eutychians, Monotholites, &c. but 
no longer citizens ; or rather, every man became the mortal 
enemy of those citizens whose opinions he condemned. — This 
unheard-of madness, for irreconcilable quarrels on subjects 
that ought to have been referred to the judgment of the 
Church, never abated amidst the most dreadful disasters. 
Every sect formed a different party in the state, and their 
mutual animosities conspired to sap its foundations.""* 

At the period to which these observations refer, it appears 
that two erroneous maxims generally prevailed, which tended 
to undermine the moral system of revelation, and which were 
productive of almost all the tumults, massacres, and disasters* 
which distinguished that era of the Christian church. These 
were, 1. That religion consists chiefly in the belief of certain 
abstract and incomprehensible dogmas, and in the perform- 
ance of a multitude of external rites and ceremonies : and, 2. 
That all heresies or differences of opinion on religious points, 
ought to be extirpated by the strong arm of the civil power. 
Than such maxims, nothing can be more repugnant to reason* 
more subversive of genuine morality, or more inconsistent 
with the spirit and genius of the Christian religion. And yet* 
to this very hour, they are recognised and acted upon by 
more than three-fourths of the Christian world, notwithstand- 
ing the melancholy examples which history has furnished of 
their futility, and their pernicious tendency. — The narrow 
limits to which I am confined will permit me to state only 
two or three instances in reference to the period to which I 
allude. 

Theodosius, one of the emperors, who commenced his 
reign in the year 379, and who received baptism during a 
dangerous distemper, in the second year of it, professed great 
zeal in favour of religion. By a law addressed to the people 
of Constantinople, he enacted, " That all subjects shall profess 



* Millot's Modern History, vol. U 



344 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



the catholic faith with regard to the articles of the Trinity ; 
and that they who do not conform shall ignominiously be 
called heretics, until they shall feel the vengeance of God and 
our own, according as it shall please Divine providence to in- 
spire us." He declared apostates and Manicheans incapable 
of making a will, or receiving any legacy ; and having pro- 
nounced them worthy of death, the people thought they had 
a right to kill them as proscribed persons. He enacted a 
law, condemning to the flames cousins german who married 
without a special license from the emperor. He established 
inquisitors for the discovery of heretics. He drove the Ma- 
nicheans # from Rome as infamous persons, and, on their 
death, ordered their goods to be distributed among the people. 
Yet with all this religious zeal, he, on one occasion, gave or- 
ders for a universal massacre at Thessalonica, because some 
persons of distinction had been killed in a sedition at the 
time of the races. The inhabitants were caused to assemble 
in the circus, under pretence of an exhibition of games, and 
slaughtered without distinction of age. Seven thousand, ac- 
cording to some, and fifteen thousand, according to others, 
the greatest part unquestionably innocent, were thus sacri- 
ficed to atrocious revenge. f Leo, another emperor, "com- 
manded every person to be baptised, under pain of banish- 
ment, and made it capital to relapse into idolatry, after the 
performance of the ceremony ;" just as if Christians could be 
made by a forced baptism, or by a law of the state. Such 
edicts clearly showed, that, whatever zeal princes or the 
clergy might manifest in favour of the Christian religion, they 
were grossly ignorant of its true spirit, and of the means by 
which its benevolent objects were to be accomplished. 

As a specimen of the manner in which such edicts were some- 
times carried into effect, the following instance maybe stated. 
Hypatia, daughter of the celebrated Geometrician, Theon of 
Alexandria, exceeded her father in learning, and gave public 
lectures in Philosophy, with the greatest applause ; nor was 
she less admirable for the purity of her virtue, joined to an un- 
common beauty, and every accomplishment that could adorn 
human nature. But this excellent woman, because she was a 
Pagan, trusted by the magistrates, and suspected to be active 
against St. Cyril, the bishop, became an object of detestation to 
the Christian multitude. A set of monks and desperadoes, 

♦The distinguishing characteristic of the Manicheans was, their re- 
cognising the doctrine of two independent and eternal principles, the one 
the author of all good, and the other the author of all eviL 

i Millot's Ancient History, vol. iL 



ECCLESIASTICAL FEUDS. 



345 



headed by a priest, seized her in the open street, hurried her 
into a church, where they stripped her naked, tore her body 
with whips, cut her in pieces, and publicly burned her mangled 
limbs in the market-place.* St. Cyril, who was suspected of 
having fomented this tragedy, had previously attacked the 
synagogues, and driven out the Jews : their goods were pil- 
laged, and several persons perished in the tumult. Such con- 
duct plainly demonstrates the tendency of the human mind, in 
every situation, to abuse power and authority, for the purpo- 
ses of persecution and revenge ; and shows us what false ideas 
the Christians of that period must have entertained of the God 
of Mercy; and how soon they had forgotten the sufferings 
which their fathers had so lately endured, under the reign of 
the heathen emperors. 

About this period, too, vain speculations about abstruse and 
incomprehensible subjects, occupied the attention of theolo- 
gians, and engendered religious quarrels and disputes, which 
burst asunder the bonds of affection and concord. A play of 
words and vain subtleties, were substituted in place of clear 
conceptions and substantial knowledge, which, instead of di- 
recting the faculties of the human mind to their proper objects, 
tended only to darken the light of reason, and to introduce the 
long night of ignorance which soon succeeded. It was a pre- 
vailing madness among the Greek theologians, who were in- 
tractable in their opinions, and it is too much the case with 
certain modern divines, — to dispute about incomprehensible 
mysteries, to render them more obscure by their attempts to 
explain them, and perpetually to revive the most dangerous 
contentions. The Arians rejected the Divinity of the Word, 
n order to maintain the unity of God; — the Nestorians denied 
nat Mary is the mother of God, and gave two persons to Jesus 
Christ, to support the opinion of his having two natures ; — the 
Eutychians, to maintain the unity of the person, confounded 
the two natures into one. This heresy became divided into 
ten or twelve branches ; some of the sections maintaining that 
Jesus Christ was merely a phantom, or appearance of flesh, 
but no real flesh. The Monotholites maintained, that there 
was only one will in Christ, as they could not conceive two 
free wills to exist in the same person. Another sect main- 
tained, that the body of Christ was incorruptible, and that from 
the moment of his conception, he was incapable of change, 
and of suffering. This chimera Justinian attempted to esta- 
blish by an edict. He banished the Patriarch Eutychius, and 



* Millot's Ancient Hist. Vol. II. 



346 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION, 



several other prelates, who opposed his sentiments ; and was 
proceding to tyrannize over the consciences of men with more 
violence than ever, when death interposed, and transported 
him to another scene of existence. — In such vain and prepos 
terous disputes as these, were the minds of professed Christians 
occupied, notwithstanding the perils with which they were 
then environed. Councils were held, to determine the ortho 
dox side of a question ; anathemas were thundered against 
those who refused to acquiesce in their decisions ; princes in- 
terposed their authority, and the civil sword was unsheathed, 
to compel men to believe what they could not understand; — 
while the substantial truths of religion were overlooked, and 
its morality disregarded. — "Religion," says Millot, "inspires 
us with a contempt of earthly vanities, a detestation of vice, 
and indulgence for the frailties of our neighbour ; invincible 
patience in misfortunes, and compassion for the unhappy; it 
inspires us with charity and heroic courage ; and tends to 
sanctify every action in common and social life. How sub- 
lime and comforting the idea it gives of the Divinity ! What 
confidence in his justice and infinite mercy ! What encourage- 
ment for the exercise of every virtue ! Wherefore, then, such 
errors and excesses on religious pretences 1 It is because 
heresy, shooting up under a thousand different forms, inces- 
santly startles the faith by subtleness and sophistry, by which 
almost the whole energy of men's minds is absorbed in the 
contest. Disputes engender hatred ; from hatred springs eve- 
ry excess ; and virtue, exhausted with words and cabals, loses 
her whole power." — How happy would it be, and how glori- 
ous for the cause of genuine Christianity, were the present 
generation of Christians to profit by the sad experience of the 
past ! 

As we advance in the history of the Christian church, through 
the middle ages, the prospect appears still more dark and 
gloomy. The human mind, at that period, appeared to have 
lost its usual energy, and its powers of discrimination ; the 
light of reason seemed almost extinguished ; sophisms, and 
absurdities of all kinds, were greedily swallowed ; and super- 
stition displayed itself in a thousand diversified forms. Mo- 
rality was in a manner smothered under a heap of ceremonies 
and arbitrary observances, which acquired the name of devo- 
tion. Relics, pilgrimages, offerings, and pious legacies, were 
thought capable of opening the gate of heaven to the most 
wicked of men. The virgin Mary, and the souls of departed 
saints, were invoked ; splendid churches were erected to their 
Honour ; their assistance was entreated with many fervent 



ECCLESIASTICAL FEUDS. 



347 



prayers ; while the mediation of Jesus Christ was thrown into 
the shade, and almost disregarded. An irrestible efficacy was 
attributed to the bones of martyrs, and to the figure of the 
cross, in defeating the attempts of Satan, in removing all sorts 
of calamities, and in healing the diseases both of the body and 
of the mind. Works of piety and benevolence were viewed 
as consisting chiefly in building and embellishing churches and 
chapels ; in endowing monasteries ; in hunting after the relics 
of martyrs ; in procuring the intercession of saints, by rich 
oblations ; in worshipping images ; in pilgrimages to holy 
places; in voluntary acts of mortification ; in solitary masses ; 
and in a variety of similar services, which could easily be re- 
conciled with the commission of the most abominable crimes. 
So that the worship of "the God and Father of our Lord 
Jesus Christ," was exchanged for the worship of bones, hair, 
fragments of fingers and toes, tattered rags, images of saints, 
and bits of rotten wood, supposed to be the relics of the cross 
The dubbing of saints became a fruitful source of frauds and 
abuses throughout the Christian world ; lying wonders were 
invented, and fabulous histories composed, to celebrate ex- 
ploits that were never performed, and to glorify persons that 
never had a being; and absolution from the greatest crimes 
could easily be procured, either by penances, or by money. 

The absurd principle, that Religion consists in acts of aus- 
terity, produced the most extravagant behaviour in certain 
devotees, and reputed saints. They lived among the wild 
beasts; they ran naked through the lonely deserts, with a fu- 
rious aspect, and with all the agitations of madness and fren- 
zy ; they prolonged their wretched lives, by grass and wild 
herbs; avoided the sight and conversation of men, and re 
mained almost motionless for several years, exposed to the 
rigour and inclemency of the seasons ; — and all this was con 
sidered as an acceptable method of worshipping the Deity, and 
of attaining a share in his favour. — But of all the instances of 
superstitious frenzy, which disgraced those times, none was 
held in higher veneration, than that of a certain order of men, 
who obtained the name of Pillar saints. These were persons 
of a most singular and extravagant turn of mind, who stood 
motionless on the tops of pillars, expressly raised for this ex- 
ercise of their patience, and remained there for several years, 
amidst the admiration and applause of a stupid and wondering 
populace. This strange superstitious practice began in the 
firth century, and continued in the East for more than six 
hundred years. — To the same principle are to be attributed the 
revolting practices of the Flagellants, a sect of fanatics who 



348 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



chastised themselves with whips in public places. Numbers 
of persons of this description, of all ages and sexes, made pro- 
fessions, walking two by two, with their shoulders bare, which 
they whipped till the blood ran down in streamlets ; in order 
to obtain mercy from God, and appease his indignation against 
the wickedness of the age. They held, among other things, 
that flagellation was of equal virtue with baptism, and the 
other sacraments; that the forgiveness of all sins was to be 
obtained by it 5 without the merits of Jesus Christ ; that the old 
law of Christ was soon to be abolished, and that a new law, 
enjoining the baptism of blood, to be administered by whip- 
ping, was to be substituted in its place. 

The enormous power conferred on the ministers of religion 
was another source of immorality and of the greatest excesses. 
The pope and the clergy reigned over mankind without con- 
trol, and made themselves masters of almost all the wealth of 
every country in Europe. They were immersed in crimes of 
the deepest dye ; and the laity, imagining themselves able to 
purchase the pardon of their sins for money, followed the ex- 
ample of their pastors without remorse. The most violent 
contentions, animosities, and hatred, reigned among the differ- 
ent orders of monks, and between the clergy of all ranks and 
degrees. " Instead of consecrating ecclesiastical censures 
solely to spiritual purposes, they converted them into a weapon 
for defending their privileges, and supporting their pretensions. 
The priesthood, which was principally designed to bless, was 
most frequently employed in cursing. Excommunication was 
made the instrument of damning instead of saving souls, and 
was inflicted according to the dictates of policy or of revenge. " 
The great and the noble, and even kings and emperors were 
excommunicated, when it was designed to rob, or to enslave 
them ; and this invisible engine, which they wielded with a 
powerful and a sovereign hand, was used to foment dissen- 
tions between the nearest relatives, and to kindle the most 
bloody wars. The generality of priests and monks kept wives 
and concubines, without shame or scruple, and even the papal 
throne was the seat of debauchery and vice. The possessions 
of the church were either sold to the highest bidder, or turned 
into a patrimony for the bastards of the incumbents. Mar- 
riages, wills, contracts, the interests of families and of courts, 
the state of the living and the dead, were all converted into 
instruments for promoting their credit, and increasing theii 
riches. It was, therefore, a necessary result from such a 
state of things, that vices of every description abounded, that 
morals were ruined, and that the benevolence of the divine law 
was trampled under foot. 



POWER OF THE ROMISH CLERGY. 349 

The theological speculations in which they indulged, cor- 
responded to the degrading practices to which I have adverted, 
and tended to withdraw the mind from the substantial realities 
both of science and of religion. Sophisms and falsehoods 
were held forth as demonstrations. They attempted to argue 
after they had lost the rules of common sense. The cultiva- 
tion of letters was neglected ; eloquence consisted in futile 
declamations; and philosophy was lost in the abyss of scho- 
lastic and sophistical theology. 44 They attempted to pene- 
trate into mysteries, and to decide questions which the limited 
faculties of the human mind are unable to comprehend or to 
resolve ;" and such vain speculations they endeavoured to in- 
corporate into the system of religion, and to render theology 
a subject of metaphysical refinement, and of endless contro- 
versy. A false logic was introduced, which subtilized upon 
words, but gave no idea of things ; which employed itself in 
nice and refined distinctions concerning objects and operations 
which lie beyond the reach of human understanding, which 
confounded every thing by attempting to analyze every thing, 
and which opened an arena for men of fiery zeal to kindle the 
flame of controversy, and to give birth to numerous heresies. 
The following are a few instances, out of many, which might 
be produced, of the questions and controversies which occu- 
pied the attention of bishops and seraphical doctors, and gave 
rise to furious contentions : — Whether the conception of the 
Blessed Virgin was immaculate? Whether Mary should be 
denominated the Mother of God, or the Mother of Christ? 
Whether the bread and wine used in the eucharist were di 
gested? In what manner the will of Christ operated, and whe 
ther he had one will or two ? Whether the Holy Ghost pro- 
ceeded from the Father and Son, or only from the Father? 
Whether leavened or unleavened bread ought to be used in 
the eucharist? Whether souls in their intermediate state see 
God, or only the human nature of Christ? It was disputed 
between the Dominicans and Franciscans, Whether Christ had 
any property ? The Pope pronounced the negative proposi- 
tion to be a pestilential and blasphemous doctrine, subversive 
of catholic faith. Many councils were held at Constantinople, 
to determine what sort of light it was that the disciples saw on 
Mount Tabor: it was solemnly pronounced to be the eternal 
light with which God is encircled ; and which may be termed 
his energy or operation, but is distinct from his nature and 
essence. The disputes respecting the real presence of Christ 
in the eucharist, led to this absurd conclusion, which came to 
be universally admitted — " That the substance of the bread 

30 



350 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



and wine used in that ordinance is changed into the real body 
and blood of Christ ;" and consequently, when a man eats 
what has the appearance of a wafer, he really and truly eats 
the body and blood, the soul and divinity of Jesus Christ; 
and when he afterwards drinks what has the appearance oi 
wine, he drinks the very same body and blood, soul and divini- 
ty, which, perhaps, not a minute before, he had wholly and 
entirely eaten ! — At the period to which I now allude, the 
authenticity of a suspected relic was proved by bulls — coun- 
cils assembled and decided upon the authority of forged acts 
with regard to the antiquity of a saint, or the place where his 
body was deposited ; and a bold impostor needed only to open 
his mouth, to persuade the multitude to believe whatever he 
pleased. To feed upon animals strangled or unclean, to eat 
flesh on Tuesday, eggs and cheese on Friday, to fast on 
Saturday, or to use unleavened bread in the service of the 
mass — were, by some, considered as indispensable duties, 
and by others, as vile abominations. In short, the history of 
this period is a reproach to the human understanding ; an in- 
sult offered to the ma jesty of reason and of science, and a libel 
on the benevolent spirit which breathes through the whole of 
the Christian system.* 

* As a striking instance of the folly and imbecility of the human mind 
at this period, it may be noticed, that in several churches in France they 
celebrated a festival in commemoration of the Virgin Mary's flight into 
Egypt, which was called the Feast of the Ass. A young girl richly dress- 
ed, with a child in her arms, was set upon an ass richly caparisoned. 
The ass was led to the altar in solemn procession. High mass was said 
with great pomp. The ass was taught to kneel at proper places ; a 
hymn, no less childish than impious, was sung in his praise ; and when 
the ceremony was ended, the priest, instead of the usual words with 
which he dismissed the people, brayed three times like an ass, and the 
people, instead of the usual response, 11 We bless the Lord," brayed in the 
same manner. This ridiculous ceremony was not a mere farcical enter- 
tainment; but an act of devotion, performed by the ministers of religion, 
and by the authority of the church. — Robertson V" Histor}^ of Charles V. 1 ' 
vol. I. — In accordance with such foolish ceremonies, were the ideas 
which prevailed of the qualifications requisite to constitute a good Chris- 
tian. " He is a good Cnristian," says St. Eloy, a canonized saint of the 
Romish church, u who comes frequently to church ; who presents the 
oblation offered to God upon the altar; who doth not taste of the fruiti 
of his own industry until he has consecrated a part of them to God ; 
who, when the holy festivals approach, lives chastely even with his own 
wife during several days, that with a safe conscience he may draw near 
to the altar of God; and who, in the last place, can repeat the Creed 
and the Lord's prayer. Redeem, then, your souls from destruction, 
while you have the means in your power; offer presents and tithes to 
churchmen ; come more frequently to cliurch ; humbly implore the pa- 
tronage of the saints ; for, if you observe these things, you may coma 



MALIGNANT DISPOSITIONS OF THE POPES. 351 



Nothing can be conceived more directly repugnant to the 
benevolence which the religion of Jesus inculcates, than the 
temper and conduct cf those who arrogated to themselves the 
character of being God's vicegerents on earth, and who as- 
sumed the supreme direction and control of the Christian 
church. In persons who laid claim to functions so sacred and 
divine, it might have been expected, that the appearance at 
least, of piety, humility, and benevolence, would have been 
exhibited before the eyes of the Christian world. But the his- 
tory of the popes and their satellites, displays almost every 
thing which is directly opposed to such heavenly virtues. 
Their avarice, extortion, and licentiousness, became intolera- 
ble and excessive almost to a proverb. To extend their pow- 
er over the kingdoms of this world, to increase their wealth 
and revenues, to live in opulence and splendour, to humble 
kings, to alienate the affections of their subjects, and to riot 
in the lap of luxury and debauchery, seemed to be the great 
objects of their ambition. Instead of acting as the heralds of 
mercy, and the ministers of peace, they thundered anathemas 
against all who called in question their authority, kindled the 
flames of discord and of civil wars, armed subjects against 
their sovereigns, led forth hostile armies to the battle, and 
filled Europe with confusion, devastation, and carnage. In- 
stead of applying the mild precepts of Christianity, and inter- 

with security in the day of retribution to the tribunal of the eternal 
Judge, and say, 4 Give to us, O Lord, for we have given unto thee.' " 
— Here we have ample description of a good Christian, in which there 
is not the least mention of the love of God, of resignation to his will, 
obedience to his laws, or of justice, benevolence, or charity towards men. 
—MosheirrCs Church History. 

The following arc the terms in which Tetzel and his associates de- 
scribed the benefit of indulgences, about the beginning of the 16th centu- 
ry, a little before the era of the reformation. " If any man," said they, 
" purchase letters of indulgence, his soul may rest secure with respect to 
its salvation. The souls confined in purgatory, for whose redemption 
indulgences are purchased, as soon as the money tinkles in the chest, in- 
stantly escape from that place of torment, and ascend into heaven. The 
efficacy of indulgences were so great, that the most heinous sins, even if 
one should violate (which was impossible) the Mother of God, would 
be remitted and expiated by them, and the person be free both from 
punishment and guilt. That this was the unspeakable gift of God, in 
order to reconcile men to himself. That the cross erected by the preach- 
ers of indulgences, was as efficacious as the cross of Christ itself. Lo ! 
the heavens are open, if you enter not now, when will you enter ? For 
twelve pence you may redeem the soul of your father out of purgatory; 
and are you so ungrateful that you will not rescue your parent from tor- 
ment i if you had but one coat, you ought to strip yourself instantly, and 
sell it, in order to purchase such benefits, &c." — Robertson's Charles V, 
vol. 2. 



352 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



posing the authority they had acquired for reconciling enemies, 
and subduing the jealousies of rival monarchs, they delighted 
to widen the breach of friendship, and to fan the flame of ani- 
mosity and discord. Dr. Robertson, when adverting to the 
personal jealousies of Francis I. and Charles V. remarks, " If 
it had been in the power of the Pope to engage them in hos- 
tilities, without rendering Lombardy the theatre of war, no- 
thing would have been more agreeable to him than to see 
them waste each other's strength in endless quarrels."* The 
Son of man came into the world, not to destroy men's lives, 
but to save them ; but, in such instances, we behold his pre- 
tended vicars, preparing and arranging the elements of discord, 
laying a train for destruction of thousands and tens of thou- 
sands, and taking a diabolical delight in contemplating the 
feuds, the massacres, and the miseries which their infernal 
policy had created. The decrees of the papal throne, instead 
of breathing the mildness and benevolence of Jesus, became 
thundering curses, and sanguinary laws, and a set of frantic 
enthusiasts, or a lawless banditti, were frequently appointed 
to carry them into effect. 

Not contented with the insurrections and the desolations 
they had produced among the European nations, they planned 
an expedition for the purpose of massacring the inhabitants of 
Asia, and ravaging their country. "Urban II. about A. D. 
1095, travelled from province to province, levying troops, 
even without the consent of their princes ; preaching up the 
doctrine of " destruction to the infidels ;" and commanding 
the people, in the name of God, to join in the holy war. St. 
Bernard ran from town to town haranguing the multitude, 
performing pretended miracles, and inducing all ranks, from 
the emperor to the peasant, to enrol themselves under the 
banners of the cross. Peter the Hermit, a man of a hideous 
figure and aspect, covered with rags, walking barefooted, and 
speaking as a prophet, inspired the people every where with 
an enthusiasm similar to his own. Thousands of wicked and 
abandoned debauchees were thus collected ; bishops, priests, 
monks, women and children, were all enrolled in the holy 
army. A plenary absolution of all their sins was promised ; 
and if they died in the contest, they were assured of a crown 
of martyrdom in the world to come. With hearts burning 
with fury and revenge, this army of banditti, without disci- 
pline or provisions, marched in wild confusion through the 
eastern parts of Europe, and, at every step of their progress, 



* Robertson's Charles V, voU %. 



THE INQUISITION. 



353 



committed the most dreadful outrages. So inveterate was 
their zeal against the Jews, wherever they were found, that 
many of those unfortunate beings, both men and women, mur- 
dered their own children, in the midst of the despair to which 
they were driven by these infuriated madmen; and when they 
arrived at Jerusalem, and had taken that city by assault, they 
suffered none of the infidels to escape the slaughter. Such 
was the way in which the successors of the Apostle Peter dis- 
played their general benevolence, and their love to the souls 
and bodies of men. 

The establishment of the Inquisition, is another mode in 
which the tyranny and cruelty of the Romish church has 
been displayed. This court was founded in the 12th century, 
by Father Dominic, and his followers, who were sent by 
Pope Innocent III. with orders to excite the Catholic princes 
and people to extirpate heretics. It is scarcely possible to 
conceive any institution more directly opposed to the dictates 
of justice and humanity, to the genius of Christianity, and to 
the meekness and gentleness of Christ, than this infernal tri- 
bunal. The proceedings against the unhappy victims of this 
court, are conducted with the greatest secresy. The person 
granted them as counsel is not permitted to converse with 
them, except in the presence of the Inquisitors ; and, when 
they communicate the evidence to the accused persons, they 
carefully conceal from them the names of the authors. The 
prisoners are kept for a long time, till they themselves, 
through the application of the torture, turn their own accu- 
sers; for they are neither told their crime, nor confronted 
with witnesses. When there is no shadow of proof against 
the pretended criminal, he is discharged, after suffering the 
most cruel tortures, a tedious and dreadful imprisonment, and 
the loss of the greatest part of his effects. When he is con- 
victed and condemned, he is led in procession, with other un- 
fortunate beings, on the festival of the Auto da Fe, to the 
place of execution. He is clothed with a garment, painted 
with flames, and with his own figure, surrounded with dogs, 
serpents, and devils, all open-mouthed, as if ready to devour 
him. Such of the prisoners as declare that they die in the 
communion of the church of Rome, are first strangled, and 
then burned to ashes. Those who die in any other faith, are 
burned alive. The priests tell them, that they leave them to 
the devil, who is standing at their elbow, to receive their souls, 
and carry them with him into the flames of hell. Flaming 
furzes, fastened to long poles, are then thrust against their 
faces, till their faces are burned to a coal, which is accompa* 

30* 



354 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



nied with the loudest acclamations of joy, among the thousands 
of spectators. At last fire is set to the furze at the bottom of 
the stake, over which the criminals are chained so high, that 
the top of the flame seldom reaches higher than the seat they 
sit on ; so that they seem to be roasted rather than burned. 
There cannot be a more lamentable spectacle ; the sufferers 
continually cry out, while they are able, " Pity for the love of 
God ;" yet it is beheld by all sexes and ages, with transports of 
joy and satisfaction ; and even the monarch, surrounded by 
his courtiers, has sometimes graced the scene with his pre- 
sence, imagining that he was performing an act highly ac- 
ceptable to the Deity ! ! * 

And what are the heinous crimes for which such dreadful 
punishments are prepared? Perhaps nothing more than read- 
ing a book which has been denounced as heretical by the holy 
office, such as " RaynaFs History of the Indies," — assuming 
the title of a freemason — irritating a priest or mendicant 
friar — uttering the language of freethinkers — declaiming 
against the celibacy of the clergy — insinuating hints or sus- 
picions respecting their amours and debaucheries — or throw- 
ing out a joke to the dishonour of the Virgin Mary,f — or, at 
most, holding the sentiments of a Mahometan, of a Jew, or 
the followers of Calvin or Luther. In the year 1725, the In- 
quisition discovered a family of Moors at Grenada, peaceably 
employed in manufacturing silks, and possessing superior skill 
in the exercise of this profession. The ancient laws, suppos- 
ed to have fallen into disuse, were enforced in all their rigour, 
and the wretched family was burnt alive. % On the entry of 
the French into Toledo, during the late Peninsular war, Gene- 
ral Lasalle visited the palace of the Inquisition. The great 
number of instruments of torture, especially the instruments 
to stretch the limbs, and the drop-baths, which cause a linger- 
ing death, excited horror, even in the minds of soldiers hard- 
ened in the field of battle. One of these instruments, singular 
in its kind for refined torture, and disgraceful to humanity and 

* See Ency. Brit. Art. Act of faith, and Inquisition, and Bourgoing's 
"Modern State of Spain," Vol. I. The 41 Instructions for tbe office of 
the holy Inquisition given atTobda in 1561," may be seen in the Appen- 
dix to " Peyron's Essays on Spain," which forms the fourth volume of 
Bourgoing's work. 

tThe Chevalier de St. Gervais, was imprisoned in the Inquisition on 
the following occasion. — A mendicant having come to his chamber, with 
a purse, begging him to contribute something for the lights or tapers to 
be lighted in honour of the Virgin, he replied, w My good father, the Vir* 
gin has no need of lights, she need only go to bed at an earlier hour.'* 

X Bourgoing's State of Spain, Vol. I. p. 349. 



HORRORS OE THE INQUISITION. 



355 



religion, deserves particular description. In a subterraneous 
vault adjoining to the audience chamber, stood, in a recess in 
the wall, a wooden statue made by the hands of monks, repre- 
senting the Virgin Mary. A gilded glory beamed round her 
nead, and she held a standard in her right hand. Notwith- 
standing the ample folds of the silk garment which fell from 
her shoulders on both sides, it appeared that she wore a 
breastplate ; and, upon a closer examination, it was found, 
that the whole front of the body was covered with extremely 
sharp nails, and small daggers, or blades of knives, with the 
points projecting outwards. The arms and hands had joints, 
and their motions were directed by machinery, placed behind 
the partition. One of the servants of the Inquisition was or- 
dered to make the machine manoeuvre. As the statue extend- 
ed its arms, and gradually drew them back, as if she would 
affectionately embrace, and press some one to her heart, the 
well-filled knapsack of a Polish grenadier supplied for this 
time the place of the poor victim. The statue pressed il 
closer and closer ; and when the director of the machinery 
made it open its arms and return to its first position, the knap 
sack was pierced two or three inches deep, and remained 
hanging upon the nails and daggers of the murderous instru 
ment. 

This infamous tribunal is said to have caused, between the 
years 1481 and 1759, 34,658 persons to be burned alive ; and 
between 1481, and 1808, to have sentenced 288,214 to the 
galleys, or to perpetual imprisonment.* In the Auto of To- 
ledo, in February, 1501, 67 women were delivered over to the 
flames for Jewish practices. The same punishment was in- 
flicted on 900 females for being witches, in the Duchy of Lor- 
raine, by one Inquisitor alone. Under this accusation, up- 
wards of thirty thousand women have perished by the hands 
of the Inquisition.f Torquemada, that infernal inquisitor of 
Spain, brought into the Inquisition, in the space of 14 years, 
no fewer than 80,000 persons; of whom GC00 were condemn- 
ed to the flames, and burned alive with the greatest pump and 
exultation; and, of that vast number, there was perhaps not a 
single person who was not more pure in religion, as well as 
morals, than their outrageous persecutors. % — Has the Deity, 
then, whom the Inquisition professes to serve, such a vora- 
cious appetite for the blood of human victims? Has that be- 
nevolent, Being, who maketh his sun to cheer the habitations 

* Histoire Abrige"e de la Inquisition. 

t u The Inquisition Unmasked." By Antonio Puigblanch. 
X Kaims' Sketches, Vol. IV. 



356 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



of the wicked as well as of the righteous, and whose "tender 
mercies are over all his works" — commissioned such blood- 
thirsty monsters to act as his ministers of vengeance, and to 
torment and destroy the rational creatures he has formed? 
The very thought is absurd and blasphemous in the highest 
degree. All his beneficent operations in creation around us, 
and all the gracious promises and declarations of his word, 
stand directly opposed to such hellish practices, and condemn 
the perpetrators as audacious rebels against the divine govern- 
ment, and as nuisances in the universe of God. 

The numerous Massacres which, in different ages, have 
taken place, on account of religious opinions, is another re- 
volting and melancholy trait in the character of the professed 
votaries of the Christian cause. Of these, the massacre of the 
Protestants in France on the feast of St. Bartholomew, on the 
24th August, 1572, was, perhaps, one of the most diabolical 
acts of perfidy, injustice, and cruelty, which have stained the 
character of our race. Every thing was atrocious and horri- 
ble in this unexampled conspiracy and assassination : feelings 
of the most sacred nature were annihilated ; religious zeal 
was changed into an impious frenzy ; and filial piety degene- 
rated into sanguinary fury. Under the direction of the infa- 
mous Duke of Guise, the soldiers and the populace en masse, 
at the signal of the tolling of a bell, flew to arms, seizing every 
weapon that presented itself ; and then rushing in crowds to 
every quarter of the city of Paris,— no sound was heard but 
the horrible cry, Kill the Huguenots ! Every one suspected 
of being a Calvinist, without any distinction of rank, age, or 
sex, was indiscriminately massacred. The air resounded with 
the horrid cries and blasphemous imprecations, of the mur- 
derers, the piercing shrieks of the wounded, and the groans 
of the dying. Headless trunks were every instant precipi- 
tated from the windows into the court-yards, or the streets ; 
the gate-ways were choked up with the bodies of the dead 
and dying, and the streets presented a spectacle of mangled 
limbs, and of human bodies, dragged by their butchers in or- 
der to be thrown into the Seine. Palaces, hotels, and public 
buildings, were reeking with blood ; the image of death and 
desolation reigned on every side, and under the most hideoug 
appearances; and in all quarters, carts were seen loaded with 
dead bodies, destined to be cast into the river, whose waters 
were for several days sullied by tides of human gore. The in- 
furiated assassins, urged on by the cry, that u It was the 
king's will that the very last of this race of vipers should be 
crushed and killed," became furious in the slaughter ; in proof 



BARTHOLOMEW MASSACRE. 



357 



of which, one Cruce, a jeweller, displaying his naked and 
bloody arm, vaunted aloud, that he had cut the throats of 
more than 400 Huguenots in one day. During this horrid pe- 
riod, every species of the most refined cruelty became ex- 
hausted ; the weakness of infancy proved no impediment to 
the impulse of ferocity; children often years, exercising the 
first homicidal deed, were seen committing the most barbarous 
acts, and cutting the throats of infants in their swaddling 
clothes ! the number of victims thus slaughtered in the city of 
Paris, amounted to above six thousand ; and, in the provinces, 
at the same time, there perished about sixty thousand souls. 
And, what is still more shocking, the news of this massacre 
was welcomed at Rome with the most lively transports of 
joy. The Cardinal of Lorraine gave a large reward to the 
courier ; and interrogated him upon the subject, in a manner 
that demonstrated he had been previously aware of the in- 
tended catastrophe. The cannons were fired, bonfires were 
kindled, and a solemn mass was celebrated, at which Pope 
Gregory XIII. assisted, with all the splendour which that 
court is accustomed to display on events of the most glorious 
and important consequence !* 

The horrid practice of Dragooning^ which was used by 
Papists, for converting supposed heretics, was another melan- 
choly example of religious cruelty and frenzy. In the reign 
of Louis XIV. of France, his troopers, soldiers, and dragoons, 
entered into the houses of the Protestants, where they marred 
and defaced their household stuff, broke their looking-glasses, 
let their wine run about their cellars, threw about and tram- 
pled under foot their provisions, turned their dining-rooms 
into stables for their horses, and treated the owners with the 
highest indignation and cruelty. They bound to posts mo- 
thers that gave suck, and let their sucking infants lie languish- 
ing in their sight for several days and nights, crying, mourn- 
ing, and gasping for life. Some they bound before a great 
fire, and, after they were half roasted, let them go. Some 
they hung up by the hair, and some by the feet, in chimneys, 
and smoked them with wisps of wet hay till they were 
suffocated. Women and maids were hung up by their feet, 
or by their arm-pits, and exposed stark naked to public view. 
Some they cut and slashed with knives, and after stripping 

* See a late publication entitled "Memoirs of Henry the Great, and 
of the Court of France daring his reio•n, ,, 2 vols. 8vo. in which is contain- 
ed the fullest description of this massacre which has appeared in our 
language 



358 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION* 



them naked, stuck their bodies with pins and needles from 
head to foot ; and, with red hot pincers, took hold of them by 
the nose and other parts of the body, and dragged them about 
the rooms till they made them promise to be Catholics, or, 
till the cries of these miserable wretches, calling upon God 
for help, induced them to let them go. If any, to escape these 
barbarities, endeavoured to save themselves by flight, they 
pursued them into the fields and woods, where they shot at 
them, as if they had been wild beasts ; and prohibited them 
from departing the kingdom, upon pain of the galleys, the lash, 
and perpetual imprisonment. On such scenes of desolation 
and horror, the Popish clergy feasted their eyes, and made 
them only a matter of laughter and of sport.* — What a strik 
ing contrast to the benevolence of the Deity, whom they im 
piously pretend to serve! Could a savage American have de 
vised more barbarous and infernal cruelties ? 

In the civil wars, on account of religion, which happened in 
France, in the beginning of the 17th century, above a million 
of men lost their lives, and nine cities, 400 villages, 2000 
churches, 2000 monasteries, and 10,000 houses were burned 
or destroyed, during their continuance ; besides the many 
thousands of men, women, and children, that were cruelly 
butchered: and 150,000,000 of livres were spent in carrying 
forward these slaughters and devastations. It is said of Louis 
XIII. who carried on these wars, by one of his biographers 
and panegyrists, Madame de Motteville that, " what gave him 
the greatest pleasure, was his thought of driving heretics out 
of the kingdom, and thereby purging the different religions 
which corrupt and infect the church of God. "t In the Neth- 
erlands alone, from the time that the edict of Charles V. was 
promulgated against the reformers, more than 100,000 per- 
sons were hanged, beheaded, buried alive, or burned on ac- 
count of religion. The prisons were crowded with supposed 
heretics ; and the gibbet, the scaffold, and the stake, filled 
every heart with horror. The Duke of Alva, and his bloody 
tribunal, spread universal consternation through these pro- 
vinces ; and, though the blood of eighteen thousand persons, 
who, in five years, had been given up to the executioner for 
heresy, cried for vengeance on this persecutor, and his adhe- 
rents, yet they gloried in their cruelty. Philip II. in whose 
reign these atrocities were committed, hearing one day, that 

* For a more particular account of such scenes, see Ency, Brit. Arti 
cle Dragooning. 

i Mottevilie's Memoirs of Anne of Austria, Vol. I. p. 98. 



RELIGIOUS PERSECUTIONS. 



359 



thirty persons at least had a little before been burned at an 
auto defe, requested that a like execution might be performed 
in his presence; and he beheld with joy forty victims devoted 
to torments and to death. One of them, a man of distinction, 
requesting a pardon, 44 No," replied he, coldly, 44 were it my 
own son I would give him up to the flames, if he obstinately 
persisted in heresy."* 

Even in our own island, the flames of religious persecution 
have sometimes raged with unrelenting fury. During two or 
three years of the short reign of Queen Mary, it was comput- 
ed that 277 persons were committed to the flames, besides 
those who were punished by fines, confiscation and impris- 
onments. Among those who suffered- by fires were five bish- 
ops, twenty-one clergymen, eight lay gentlemen, and eighty - 
four tradesmen ; one hundred husbandmen, fifty-five women, 
and four children. And, a century and a half has scarcely 
elapsed, since the Presbyterians in Scotland were hunted 
across moors and mosses, like partridges of the wilderness, 
slaughtered by bands of ruffian dragoons, and forced to seek 
their spirtual food in dens, and mountains, and forests, at the 
peril of their lives. Hunter, a young man about nineteen 
years of age, was one of the unhappy victims to the zeal for 
Papacy of Mary queen of England. Having been inadvert- 
ently betrayed by a priest, to deny the doctrine of transub- 
stantiation, he absconded to keep out of harm's way. Boner, 
that arch-hangman of Popery, threatened ruin to the father if 
he did not deliver up the young man. Hunter, hearing of his 
father's danger, made his appearance, and was burned alive, 
instead of being rewarded for his filial piety. A woman of 
Guernsey was brought to the stake, without regard to her 
advanced pregnancy, and she was delivered in the midst of 
the flames. One of the guards snatched the infant from the 
fire; but the magistrate, who attended the execution, ordered 
it to be thrown back, being resolved, he said, that nothing 
should survive which sprung from a parent so obstinately 
heretical.! 

What a dreadful picture would it present of the malignity 
of persons who have professed the religion of Christ, were we 
lo collect into one point of view, all the persecutions, tortures, 
burnings, massacres, and horrid cruelties, which, in Europe, 
and Asia, and even in the West Indies and America, have 
been inflicted on conscientious men for their firm adherence 

* Millot's Modern History, Vol. II. p. 190. 
t Kaim's Sketches, Vol. IV 



360 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



to what they considered as the truths of religion ! When we 
consider, on the one hand, the purity of morals, and the puri- 
ty of faith which generally distinguished the victims of per- 
secution ; and, on the other, the proud pampered priests, 
abandoned without shame to every species of wickedness, we 
can scarcely find words sufficiently strong to express the in- 
dignation and horror which arise in the mind, when it views 
this striking contrast, and contemplates such scenes of impiety 
and crime. Could a religion, which breathes peace and good 
will from heaven towards men, be more basely misrepresent- 
ed ? or can the annals of our race present a more striking 
display of the perversity and depravity of mankind? To re- 
present religion as consisting in the belief of certain incom- 
prehensible dogmas, and to attempt to convert men to Chris- 
tianity, and to inspire them with benevolence, by fire, and 
racks, and tortures, is as absurd as it is impious and profane ; 
and represents the Divine Being as delighting in the torments 
and the death of sinners, rather than that they should return 
and live.— But, without dwelling longer on such reflections 
and details, I shall just present an example or two of the 
moral state of Roman Catholic countries, as a specimen of 
the effects to which their system of religion naturally leads. 

"By their fruits shall ye know them," says our Saviour. 
Wherever religion is viewed as consisting chiefly in the ob- 
servance of a number of absurd and unmeaning ceremonies, 
it is natural to expect that the pure morality of the Bible will 
seldom be exemplified in human conduct. This is strikingly 
the case in those countries, both in Europe and America, 
where the Catholic religion reigns triumphant, — Mr. Howison, 
whose work, entitled " Foreign Scenes," I formerly quoted, 
when speaking of the priesthood in the island of Cuba, says, 
" The number of priests in Havana exceeds four hundred. 
With a few exceptions, they neither deserve nor enjoy the re- 
spect of the community. However, no one dares openly to 
speak against them. In Havana, the church is nearly omnipo- 
tent and every man feels himself under its immediate juris- 
diction. Most people, therefore, attend mass regularly, make 
confession, uncover, when passing a religious establishment 
of any kind, and stand still in the streets, or stop their volan- 
tos, the moment the vesper-bell begins ringing. But they go 
no farther; and the priests do not seem at all anxious that the 
practice of such individuals should correspond to their pro- 
fession. The priests show, by their external appearance, that 
they do not practice those austerities which are generally be- 
lieved to be necessary concomitants of a monastic life. The 



MORALITY OF THE TUSCANS. 



361 



sensual and unmeaning countenances that encircle the altars of 
the churches, and the levity and indifference with which the 
most sacred parts of the service are hurried through, would 
shock and surprise a Protestant, were he to attend mass with 
the expectation of finding the monks, those solemn and awe- 
inspiring persons, which people, who have never visited Catho- 
lic countries, often imagine them to be. 

The following extract, from a late writer, exhibits a speci- 
men of the religion and of the moral feelings of the Neapoli- 
tans. " When Vesuvius thunders aloud, or when an earth- 
quake threatens them with destruction — when fiery streams 
vomited from the roaring mouth of the volcano roll on, carry 
ing desolation over the plains below — when the air is darkened 
by clouds of smoke, and showers of ashes, the Neapolitans will 
fall on their knees, fast, do penance, and follow the processions 
barefooted ; but as soon as the roar has ceased, the flame has 
disappeared, and the atmosphere has recovered its w T onted se- 
renity, they return to their usual mode of life, they sink again 
to their former level, and the tinkling sounds of the tumburella 
call them again to the lascivious dance of the tarantella."* — As 
an evidence of the litigious dispositions of the Neapolitans, 
the same author informs us, 64 That there is scarcely a land- 
holder but. has two or three causes pending before the courts 
— that a lawyer, and a suit, are indispensable appendages of 
property; — and that some of the principal families have suits 
which have been carried on for a century, and for which a cer- 
tain sum is yearly appropriated, although the business never 
idvances ; and, at last the expenses swallow up the whole 
capital."- — "The infinite number of churches," says a late 
writer, " is one of the most efficient causes of the decline of 
the religion of Rome, whose maxims and practice are diame- 
trically opposite to those of the Gospel. The Gospel is the 
friend of the people, the consoler of the poor. The religion 
of Rome, on the contrary, considers all nations as great flocks, 
made to be shorn or eaten according to the good pleasure of 
the shepherds : for her the golden lever is the lever of Ar- 
chimedes. The favours of the church are only showered on 
those who pay ; with money we may purchase the right to 
commit perjury and murder, and be the greatest villains at so 
much per crime; according to the famous Tariff printed at 
Rome, entitled, 44 Taxes of the Apostolic Chancery."f 

* Vieusseux's "Ttaly in the 19th century," 1824. 

t 44 Picture of Modern Rome," by M. Santo Domingo. 1824. 

31 



362 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



M. Jouy, in his late publication, " The Hermit in Italy, 
presents the following picture of the religion and the practicai 
morality of the Tuscans. The greediness after profit is such, 
among the lower classes of shop-keepers, that they adulteratr 
their merchandize so much as to render it almost intolerable 
Milk, cheese, and butter, are always in peril under the hands 
of a Florentine shop-keeper. It is impossible to meet with 
good butter, except at the dairies. The grocers are not ex- 
empt from the imputation of these illicit mixtures, and adulte- 
rations of their goods. I bought, from one of them, some 
brown sugar, which would not dissolve in the mouth ; and, 
on examination, I found, that nearly one-third part consisted 
of powdered marble, which had been mixed up with it. Yet 
they are excessively punctual in the outward ceremonies of 
religion ; and whenever they remove from one place to ano- 
ther, a large cross, or a Madonna, is always stuck up at full 
length in the cart." 

In a conversation which Buonaparte had with his friends at 
fet Helena, on the subject of religion, as related by Las Casas, 
in his Journal, he said, among many other things, " 4 How is 
it possible that conviction can find its way to our hearts, when 
we hear the absurd language, and witness the acts of iniquity of 
the greatest number of those whose business it is to preach to 
us ? I am surrounded with priests, who preach incessantly that 
their reign is not of this world, and yet they lay hands upon 
every thing they can get. The Pope is the head of that reli- 
gion from heaven, and he thinks only of this world,' &c. 
The Emperor ended the conversation, by desiring my son to 
bring him the New Testament, and taking it from the begin- 
ning, he read as far as the conclusion of the speech of Jesus 
on the mountain. He expressed himself struck with the 
highest admiration at the purity, the sublimity, the beauty of 
the morality it contained, and we all experienced the same 
feeling." 

Such facts may suffice as specimens of the benevolence and 
and morality which exist in Roman Catholic countries. 



MORAL STATE OF THE PROTESTANT CHURCH, AND OF THE 
DISPOSITIONS GENERALLY MANIFESTED AMONG CHRISTIANS 
IN OUR OWN COUNTRY. 

This is a topic which would adirit of a very extended ill tis 
tration ; but my present limits will permit me to do little 
more than simplj to allude to a few prominent dispositions 



TEMPERS DISPLAYED BY CONTROVERSIALISTS. 363 



displayed by the different sections of the Protestant church. 
— We have already seen some of the pernicious effects which 
flowed from the divisive and contentious spirit of Christians, 
under the reign of the Christian emperors, and during the 
middle ages, when ignorance and intolerance so extensively 
prevailed. The present state of the Christian world affords 
abundant proofs that this spirit is far from being extinguished. 
Christians are at present distinguished by the peculiarity of 
their opinions respecting — the Person of Christ, and the at- 
tributes of which he is possessed — the means by which salva- 
tion is to be obtained — the measure and extent of divine be- 
nevolence — the Government of the Christian church — and the 
geremonies connected with the administration of the ordi- 
nances of Religion. Hence the religious world appears ar- 
ranged into such sects and parties as the following : — Arians, 
Socinians, Unitarians, Sabellians, Necessarians, and Trinita- 
rians ;— Baxterians, Antinomians, Arminians, Calvinists, Lu- 
therans, Sub-lapsarians, Supra-lapsarians, Sandemanians, 
Swedenborgians, and Moravians ; — Roman Catholics, Pro- 
testants, Hugonots, Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Independ 
Bnts, Seceders, Brownists, Paedo-Baptists, Anti-Paedo-Baptists, 
Keilamites, Methodists, Jumpers, Universalists, Sabbatarians, 
Millennarians, Destructionists, Dunkers, Shakers, Mysticks, 
Hutchinsonians, Muggletonians, the followers of Joanna 
Southcott, &c. &c— Most of these sectaries profess their 
belief in the existence of One Eternal, Almighty, Wise, Be- 
aevolent, and Righteous Being, the Creator and Preserver of 
ill things; — in the Divine authority of the Holy Scriptures; 
—that God is the alone object of religious worship; — that 
fesus of Nazareth is the true Messiah, and the Son of God ; — 
4 that he died for our offences, and was raised again for our 
ustification ;" — that there is a future state of rewards and 
punishments ; — that there will be a resurrection from the 
lead ; — that it is our duty to love God with all our hearts, and 
)ur neighbour as ourselves ; — that the Divine law is obligatory 
#n the consciences of all men ; — that virtue and piety will be 
rewarded, and vice and immorality punished, in the world to 
come. 

Yet, though agreeing in these important articles of the 
Christian system, how many boisterous and malignant dis- 
putes have taken place between Calvinists and Arminians, 
Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Independents, and Methodists, 
respecting the speculative points in which they disagree ! 
While controversies among philosophers have frequently 
been conducted with a certain degree of candour and polite* 



364 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



ness, the temper with which religious disputants have encoun 
tered the opinions of each other, has generally been oppose-d 
to the spirit of Christian love, to the meekness and gentleness 
of Christ, and even to common civility and decorum. The 
haughty and magisterial tone which theological controversal- 
ists frequently assume, — the indignant sneers, the bitter sar- 
casms, the malignant insinuations, the personal reproaches, 
they throw out against their opponents, — the harsh and unfaii 
conclusions they charge upon them, — the general asperity oi 
their language, — and the bold and unhallowed spirit with 
which they apply the denunciations of Scripture to those 
whom they consider as erroneous, are not only inconsistent 
with every thing that is amiable and Christian, but tend to rivet 
more powerfully in the minds of their opponents, those very 
opinions which it was their object to subvert. To gain a vic- 
tory over his adversary, to hold up his sentiments to ridicule, 
to wound his feelings, and to bespatter the religious body 
with which he is connected, is more frequently the object of 
the disputant, than the promotion of truth, and the manifesta- 
tion of that " character which is the bond of perfection. " And 
what are some of the important doctrines which frequently 
rouse such furious zeal? Perhaps nothing more than a meta- 
physical dogma respecting the son ship of Christ, absolute or 
conditional election, the mode of baptism, the manner of sit- 
ting at a communion-table, an unmeaning ceremony, or a 
circumstantial punctilio in relation to the government of the 
church ! While the peculiar notions of each party, on such 
topics, are supported with all the fierceness of unhallowed 
zeal, the grand moral objects which Christianity was intended 
to accomplish are overlooked, and the law of meekness hu- 
mility, and love, is trampled under foot. 

The following are some of the ideas entertained respecting 
the rights of religious disputants, as assumed by the dispu- 
tants themselves: — " The Controversialist," says Mr. Vaughan, 
in his " Defence of Calvinism," "is a wrestler ; and is at full 
liberty to do all he can, in the fair and honest exercise of his 
art, to supplant his antagonist. He must not only be dex 
terous to put in his blow forcibly; but must have a readiness 
to menace with scorn, and to tease with derision, if haply he 
may, by these means, unnerve or unman his competitor. I 
know not that he is under any obligation to withhold a parti- 
cle of his skill and strength, whether offensive, or defensive, 
in this truly Spartan conflict." In perfect accordance with 
these maxims, he thus addresses his adversary: "Why, Sir, 
I will fight you upon this theme, as the Greeks did foi the 



TEMPER DISPLAYED BY CONTROVERSIALISTS. 366 



recovery of their dead Patroclus ; as Michael the archangel, 
when, contending, with the Devil, he disputed about the body 
of Moses ; as the famed Athenian, who grasped his ship with 
his teeth, when he had no longer a hand to hold it by. It shall 
be with a loss not less than life, that I resign this splendid 
attestation (Rom. viii. 28 — 30.) to the triumphal origin, pro- 
cession, and coronation, of grace in the redeemed." 

Wo to Religion, when it meets with such boisterous 
" wrestlers !" Its true glory will be obscured, its beauty de- 
faced, its interests betrayed, and its benevolent spirit smother- 
ed, amidst the smoke and dust raised by the onsets of such 
angry combatants. Do such controversialists really imagine, 
that "the wrath of man worketh the righteousness of God?" 
or, that the Religion of Heaven stands in need of such warlike 
arts, and unhallowed passions, for its vindication and defence 1 
If it did, it would be a religion unworthy of our reception and 
support. What a contrast to the mild and gentle spirit of 
Christianity, to behold one zealot dipping his pen in worm- 
wood and gall, when he sits down to defend the Religion of 
Love ! and another, standing up in a Synod or Assembly, with 
eyes sparkling with indignation, a mouth foaming with rage, 
and a torrent of anathemas and abusive epithets bursting from 
his lips, against the supposed abettors of an erroneous opi- 
nion ! while at the same time, they imagine that they are fired 
with holy zeal for the honour of the Lord God of Sabaoth 
Such disputants seem not to be aware, that they are grossly 
misrepresenting the genius of the Christian system, and bid- 
ding defiance to its most distinguishing principles and laws. — 
There are heresies in conduct, as well as heresies in doctrine ; 
and of all heresies, the former are the most pestilential and 
pernicious. And why do not Controversialists and Religious 
Societies manifest as much zeal against heresies in temper and 
morality, which are nursed among the members of every 
church, as they do against heresies in theology ? If these 
heresies were more particularly investigated and subverted, 
and a greater latitude allowed for the exercise of private judg- 
ment, the church of Christ would present a very different 
moral aspect from what she has hitherto done. 

Again, there is nothing which so strikingly marks the cha- 
racter of the Christian world in general, as the want of can- 
dour, the spirit of jealousy, and the evil surmisings which the 
different denominations of religionists manifest towards each 
other. There is a prevailing disposition in one religious par^ 
ty to speak evil of another ; and it appears, in many instances, 
to afford a high degree of satisfaction, when one party can lay 

3i* 



see 



THE PHILOSOPHY 01 RELIGION 



hold of the inadvertencies of another denomination, or even 
of the imprudence of a single individual, in order to asperse 
the character of the whole body, and to hold it up to general 
derision and contempt. Episcopalians look down with feel 
ings of scorn and contempt on Methodists and Dissenters; In- 
dependents sneer at Methodists, and Methodists at Independ- 
ents ; Presbyterians are disposed to revile Independents, as 
self-conceited, sanctimonious pretenders, and Independents, 
to treat with unbecoming levity, and even with ridicule, the 
opinions and practices of Presbyterians ; while the different 
classes of Baptists, distinguishable only by the slightest shades 
of opinion, stand aloof from each other, in a warlike attitude, 
and refuse to join with cordiality in the ordinances of Divine 
worship. I have seldom been in company with individuals of 
any particular party, in which I have not found, when allu- 
sions were made to another denomination, innuendoes thrown 
out to their prejudice ; and that the detail of any error or im- 
perfection which attached to them, was generally relished, and 
even received with a high degree of satisfaction. Hence it 
happens, that the rules of common civility are every day vio- 
lated by the different sectaries. If a person belonging to a 
particular denominalion be accidentally introduced into a 
company composed of persons belonging to another religious 
party, he is frequently treated with reserve, and with a spirit 
of jealousy and suspicion, even although he may be viewed, 
on the whole, as a Christian at bottom. I have known indi 
viduals of respectable character and attainments, who, from 
conscientious motives, had forsaken the denomination to which 
they formerly belonged, have, merely on this account, been 
treated with scorn and neglect, been banished from the inti 
maeies of social and friendly intercourse, and been regarded 
nearly in the same light as a Turk or an infidel ; and that, too, 
by men who pretended to liberality, and to literary accom- 
plishments. 

There is certainly neither heresy nor orthodoxy inherent 
in stone or lime, in a church-pew, or a pulpit-cushion : — yet 
one denomination will rudely refuse to another, the liberty of 
preaching in their place of worship, when it can conveniently 
be spared, although nothing but the fundamental doctrines ac- 
knowledged by both are intended to be proclaimed ; just as 
if the walls, the pews, and the pulpit of a church, would re- 
ceive a stain of pollution from the presence of another secta- 
ry,. Even in those cases where the common interests of Chris- 
tianity are to be supported, — as in vindicating the cause o! 
Missionary, and other Philanthropic institutions* — if the 



ILLIBERALITY OF RELIGIOUS BODIES. 



preacher belongs to a dissenting body, he is shut out from the 
spacious churches of the Establishment, where he might ad- 
dress a numerous audience, and obtain a large collection ; and 
is obliged to confine his exertions within the narrow wails of 
any public hall, or meeting-house, that he can procure. We 
accountit no more than a piece of common civility, to accom- 
modate a neighbour with a barn, a parlour, or even a dining- 
room, for the entertainment of his friends at a wedding or a 
funeral ; but, such is the little progress that professed Chris- 
tians have made in the exercise of a noble and generous libe- 
rality, that, when we ask the use of a church, or meeting- 
house, only for a couple of hours, we are spurned away with 
rudeness and indignation. — The Christian world is unhappily 
divided into sects and parties ; and these divisions must still 
continue for a time; but what should hinder Christian minis- 
ters of different parties from, occasionally at least, officiating 
for each other, in order to show to the world, that they enter- 
tain no malignant jealousies, and that they are united in the 
bonds of a common Religion? Yet, do we ever behold an 
Episcopalian officiating for a Methodist, an Independent 
preaching in an Established church, or a Baptist leading the 
devotional exercises of a society of Presbyterians ? If such a 
case occasionally occur, it is so far from being a matter of 
course, that it is considered a phenomenon in the religious 
world. Yet all these different parties recognize the leading 
doctrines and duties exhibited in the Christian Revelation ; 
and the points in whicli they differ are 44 trifles light as air," 
when compared with those important truths in which they all 
agree.* 

* The following recent facts will illustrate some of the positions con 
tained in tiiis paragraph. — It appeals that the minister of the parish of 
Annan ha* been in the habit of allowing Dissenters occasionally to 
preach in the parish church. His Assistant brought this heavy offence 
before a late meeting of the Presbytery; and, by that body, it was de- 
clared, that no Dissenter should, in future, pollute the said pulpit. They, 
at the same time, voted thanks to the Assistant, for his manly and liberal 
conduct in making the complaint. — Public Prints, April, 1824. 

u Lately, the minister of a parish, a few miles to the westward of Cu- 
par, hearing that, at the request of some of his parishioners, a sermon 
was to be preached to them, by a Dissenting clergyman from Cupar, and 
knowing that the school-room was the only place where that could be 
conveniently done, he called upon the teacher and commanded him not to 
allow the school-room to be used for such a purpose. In a few days, a 
company of strolling players visited the parish; whereupon the worthy 
pastor, calling on the schoolmaster, ordered the school-room to be at 
their service, to perform in." — Dundee Courier, April, 1825. 



368 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



Even among Christians belonging to the same religious so- 
ciety how often do we behold a display of "bitter envyings," 
contentious dispositions, and malignant passions ! Perhaps a 
mere punctilio respecting a certain mode of worship, or a dif- 
ference in opinion about the choice of a pastor, will throw the 
whole society into a flame. Evil passions will be engendered ; 
backbitings, whisperings, tumults, and dissentions, will arise ; 
harsh and unfounded conclusions, respecting the motives and 
characters of individuals, will be drawn ; alienation of affection 
will be induced ; friendly intercourse interrupted ; an attitude 
of hostility assumed ; and even the rules of common civility 
violated ; — so that a calm and impartial spectator will plainly 
discern, that the spirit of Christianity has never been tho- 
roughly imbibed, and that they have never learned the apos- 
tolic precept, " to forbear one another in love," however high 
pretensions they may have previously made to spirituality of 
affection and deportment. Among Christians of every name, 
we find dispositions and practices daily prevailing, which are 
altogether inconsistant with the genius of the religion of Christ, 
and directly repugnant to its precepts. Slander, dishonesty, 
falsehood, cheating, swindling, and vexatious litigations, are 
far from being uncommon among those who profess to be 
united in the bonds of a common Christianity. How little 
dependence can we have, in social and commercial transac- 
tions, on the promise or the declaration of a man, merely on 
the ground of his being a Christian in profession ! If written 
engagements, and civil laws, did not secure our property, and 
the performance of promises and contracts, our reliance on 
Christian principle, abstractly considered, in the present state 
of the religious world, v/ould prove like that of a person who 
leans upo« a broken reed. How few r would fulfil their pro- 
mises and engagements, when they interfered with their am- 
bitious schemes, and their pecuniary interests ! How many 
instances of fraudulent bankruptcy happen among the profes- 
sors of religion! And in cases of common bankruptcy, where 
a legal settlement has been obtained, is there one out of a 
hundred that ever thinks of performing an act of natural jus- 
tice, in restoring to his creditors the loss they had sustained, 
when he afterwards has it in his power? 

Finally, the degree in which the spirit of intolerance and 
persecution still prevails, shows a lamentable deficiency of be- 
nevolence and of Christian spirit in the religious world 
Notwithstanding the unjust and cruel sufferings which Eng- 
lish Frotestants endured from Popish priests and rulers, 
a short period only elapsed, after they had risen to power, 



ILLIBERALITY OF RELIGIOUS BODIES. 



369 



before they began in their turn, to harass their Dissenting 
brethren, with vexations and cruel prosecutions, and fines 
and imprisonments, till they were forced to seek for shelter 
in a distant land. And no sooner had the English Inde- 
pendants settled in America, than they set on foot a per- 
secution against the Quakers, no less furious than that 
which they themselves had suffered in the country from which 
they had fled. A number of these worthy persons they threw 
into prison, and seized upon the books they had brought from 
England, and committed them to the flames. In virtue of a 
law which had been made against heretics in general, sentence 
of banishment was passed upon them all ; and another law pun- 
ished with death, " all Quakers who should return into the ju- 
risdiction after banishment ; and it is a fact, that/cmr persons 
actually suffered death, under this impolitic and unjust law.* 
Nor did the Reformed clergy in Scotland lose sight of that 
magisterial authority which had been assumed by the Romish 
church. Upon a representation, in 164G, from the Commis- 
sion of the Kirk of Scotland, James Bell, and Colin Champ 
bell, baillies of Glasgow, were committed to prison by the Par- 
liament, merely for having said, that " Kirkmen meddled too 
much in civil matters. "f Even so late as the middle of the 
eighteenth century, when Whitefield, Wesley, and other pious 
men, began to address the ignorant villagers of England on 
the most important subjects, " a multitude has rushed together, 
shouting and howling, raving, and cursing, and accompanying 
their ferocious cries and yells with loathsome or dangerous 
missiles, dragging or driving the preacher from his humble 
stand, forcing him, and the few who wished to hear him, to 
flee for their lives, sometimes not without serious injury be- 
fore they could escape. And these savage tumults have, in 
many cases, been well understood to be instigated by persons, 
whose advantage of superior condition in life, or even express 
vocation to instruct the people better, has been infamously 
lent in defence of the perpetrators, against shame or remorse, 
or legal punishment for the outrage. And there would be no 
hazard in affirming, that, since Wesley and Whitefield began 
to conflict with the heathenism of the country, there have 
been in it hundreds of instances answering in substance to this 

* Morse , s American Geography, — The following severe laws, among 
others, were enacted against the Quakers. "Any Quaker, after the 
first conviction, if a man, was to lose one ear, — and for the second of- 
fence, the other; — a woman, to be each time severely whipped; — and 
the third time, whether man or woman, to have theii tongues bored 
through, with a red hot iron. 
t Kaims 1 Sketches. 



370 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



description. — Yet the good and zealous men who were thus set 
upon by a furious rabble of many hundreds, the foremost of 
whom active in direct violence, and the rest venting their fe 
rocious delight, in a hideous blending of ribaldry and execra- 
tion, of joking and cursing, — were taxed with a canting hy- 
pocrisy, or a fanatical madness, for speaking of the prevailing 
ignorance, in terms equivalent to those of the prophet, 1 The 
people are destroyed for lack of knowledge.' "* 

But we need not go back even to the distance of half a cen- 
tury in order to find instances of religious intolerance among 
Protestant communities and churches ; our own times unhap- 
pily furnish too many examples of a bigoted, intolerant, and 
persecuting spirit. Little more than two years have elapsed 
since the Methodist chapel in Barbadoes was thrown down 
and demolished by the mob-gentry, and with the connivance 
of the public authorities of that slave trafficking island, and Mr. 
Shrewsbury, a worthy and respected pastor and missionary, 
obliged to flee for his life. Previous to this outrage, he suffer- 
ed every species of insult, contumely, and reproach. He wasf 
abused as a villain, and hissed at in the streets, not by merr 
rabble, but by the great vulgar ; by merchants from their 
stores, and individuals in the garb of gentlemen. By such 
characters his chapel was surrounded, and partly filled, on 
Sunday the 5th October, 1823. Thin glass bottles had been 
previously prepared and filled with a mixture of oil and assa- 
fcetida; and all of a sudden, they were thrown with great 
violence in the midst of the people, and one was aimed at the 
head of the preacher; and during the whole service, stones 
were rattling against the chapel from every quarter. On the 
next Sabbath an immense concourse of people assembled, 
" breathing out threatnings and slaughter ; " and from 20 to 30 
of 'the ^gentlemen-mob planted themselves around the pulpit ap- 
parently ready for any mischief. Men wearing masks, and 
having swords and pistols, came galloping down the street and 
presenting their pistols, fired them at the door ; and it was origi- 
nally designed to have fire crackers among the females, to set 
their clothes on fire. At length, on Sabbath the 19th, this exe- 
crable mob, consisting of nearly 200 gentlemen and others, 
again assembled, with hammers, saws, hatchets, crows, and 
every other necessary implement; and, in the course of a few 
hours, the lamps, benches, pews, pulpit, and even the walls, 
were completely demolished. They entered the dwelling- 
house, broke the windows and doors, threw out the crockery 

* Foster's " Essay on Popular Ignorance. 



PERSECUTION IN SWITZERLAND. 



371 



Ware, chopped *up tables, chairs, and every article of furni- 
ture ; tore the manuscripts of the preacher, and destroyed a 
library of more than 300 volumes. All this was done under 
the light of the full moon, in the presence of an immense 
crowd of spectators, without the least attempt being made to 
check them either by the civil or military authorities — while 
the unfortunate preacher, with his wife in an advanced state of 
pregnancy, had to flee to a neighbouring island to save his 
life! Such is the tolerant and humane conduct of gentlemen 
Protestants of the nineteenth century ! gentlemen who would 
no doubt, consider it very unhandsome were they to be com- 
pared to Goths and Vandals, or to the rude and barbarous 
savages of Papua or New Holland.* 

About the same period, the authorities of Demerara set on 
foot a persecution against Mr. Smith, Missionary from the 
London Society, under various pretexts: but his real crime in 
the eyes of his persecutors, was, his unwearied zeal in in- 
structing the negroes in the knowledge of religion. He was 
condemned to death by a court-martial, in the face of every 
principle of justice: he died in prison, was refused the privi- 
lege of a Christian burial, and his friends were prohibited 
from erecting a stone to mark the spot where his body was 
laid. The whole details of this transaction present a scene of 
savage barbarity, created by the lust of gain, scarcely to be 
paralleled in the history of Europe. 

In Switzerland, which was formerly the head quarters of 
Protestantism, the demon of religious persecution has again 
reared its head. The council of state of the Pays de Vaud, at 
the instigation of the clergy, on January 15, 1825, published a 
decree, "prohibiting, under the penalty of severe fines and im- 
prisonments, all meetings for religious worship or instruction, 
other than those of the Established Church :" and in the fol- 
lowing May, another decree was issued, which denounces 
' fines, imprisonment, or banishment, upon the most private 
kind of religious assembly, or even the admission of a single 
visitor to family worship." In pursuance of these disgraceful 
laws, several ministers and private Christians of high character 
for piety and acquirements, have been banished from the Canton, 
some for one and some for two years — cut off from all means of 
subsistence, unless possessed of independent fortunes, and left 
prehaps to starve and perish in foreign lands. If they returned 

* For a more particular detail of these execrable transactions, see M Re- 
port of the Wesleyan Missionary Society for 1824:" and the Debates in 
Parliament in 1325. 



372 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



before the expiration of their sentence, it is said that deathisthe 
punishment to be inflicted. One poor man, a school-master, in 
the principality of Neufchatel, has been condemned to ten years' 
banishment. He was brought out from prison, tied with cords, 
and compelled to kneel in the snow in the public square to hear 
his sentence read. His crime was, gathering together a few 
fellow-christians in his own house, and there having the Lord's 
supper administered by a regularly ordained minister ! * 

And, is England pure from the spirit of persecution and in- 
tolerance ? Let us see. — At Kenneridge in Dorsetshire a 
worthy and excellent individual, belonging to the Wesleyan 
denomination, had attended on a green, where 20 or 30 per- 
sons usually congregated, on a Sunday afternoon to listen to 
the truths he thought it important to declare. The clergyman 
of the parish approached with a retinue of servants, and com- 
manded him to desist. The preacher took no notice of the 
command and proceeded to read his text. The clergyman 
then commanded the tithing-man to seize him. He was di- 
rected to be conveyed to Wareham jail; and to every ques- 
tion the preacher put, as to the ground of his being seized up 
on, the reverend and worthy clergyman only replied by the 
brandishing of his stick. — Instances have occurred in which 
clergymen of the establishment have refused to bury the dead. 
At Chidds Ereal, in Shropshire, the child of a poor man was 
refused interment, and the father was obliged to carry it six 
miles, before it could be laid at rest in its mother-earth. — At 
Catsfield, in Sussex, a similar act of infamy was committed, — 
At the moment when the hell had tolled, when the earth was 
to fall heavily upon the coffin containing the only remains of 
the being that affection had endeared, and when those who 
stood by needed all the consolations that religion can, supply 
— -at this moment the clergyman appeared, but advanced only 
to give pain to the mourners, and to agonize a parent's heart, 
by saying, " Now that you have waited an hour till it suited me 
to come, I will not inter your child ! I did not know that you 
were Dissenters — take your child some where else — take it 
where you please — but here it shall not lie in consecrated 
ground." And, in fact, they were compelled to carry the child 
away eleven miles from the abode of its parents, and from 
the place that gave it birth, before it could find repose in its 
kindred dust. — At Mevagissey, in the county of Cornwall, the 
vicar refused to allow the corpse of a Dissenter to be brought 

* See a pamphlet on this subject by Dr. Pye Smith. See also Cong, 
Mag. for June, 1825; and other periodical works of that date. 



INTOLERANCE IN ENGLAND. 



373 



within the church, and, therefore, read the burial service in the 
open air ; but, in consequence of which, he read only a part 
of that service, and omitted the most beautiful portion. — 
Such a power appears to be conceded to the clergy by the 
laws of the church; but the spirit which gave it existence is 
deeply to be deplored, as the spirit of bigotry and intolerance. 
At Wellingborough, a clergyman, in opposition to a custom 
which had been established for sixty years, issued orders, that 
no bell should toll when a Dissenter expired. He boldly a- 
vowed " that he never would permit the passing bell to be 
rung for a Dissenter, even in the event of an interment in the 
church-yard ; that whilst he held the curacy, no bell of his 
church should ever toll for a Dissenter ; and that he would 
not even permit the bells to ring for a marriage where the 
parties were Dissenters." In reference to this case, an ap- 
peal was made to the Bishop of Peterborough,, who wrote a 
long letter on the subject, and defended the conduct of this 
Wellingborough curate — -At Newport Pagnel, two persons of 
decent appearance, teachers of Baptist Societies, were collect- 
ing subscriptions for the erction of a new place of worship. — 
After arriving at the residence of the parish clergyman, they 
were taken before a clerical magistrate, who upjn the oaih of 
the other clergyman, that they were rogues and vagrants, com- 
mitted them to Aylesbury jail ; where they were confined for 
three weeks in common with the basest felons; among convict- 
ed thieves of the most abandoned character ;— nay, more, they 
were sentenced to the tread-mill, and kept at hard labour there, 
though, during the whole time, one of them was afflicted with 
spitting of blood. Their papers were seized upon ; their mo- 
ney was taken from them ; and by means of it the expense of 
sending them to prison was defrayed.* 

All the above-stated instances, and many others of a similar 
description, occurred within the limits of the year 1824 ; and 
every year since the " Society for the Protection of Religious 
Liberty" was formed, similar instances, some of them of a 
more barbarious nature, have been brought forth to public 
view. And, were it not for the protection which this Society 
affords to the victims of intolerance, it is highly probable, that 
vexatious persecutions, insults, fines, and imprisonments, on 
account of differences in religious opinions, would be much 
more common than they now are. Were such individuals as 

♦The readei will find a more particular detail of these cases, in the 
Address of John Wilks, Esq, at the Fourteenth Anniversary of the Pro- 
testant Society for the Protection of Religious Liberty," in May, 1825. 

32 



374 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



those to whom we have now alluded, premitted, by the laws 
of our country, to carry their intolerant spirit to its utmost ex- 
tent, Dissenters would have rxo security either for their pro- 
perty or their lives ; and the fires of Smithfield would again be 
kindled, to torture the souls, and to consume the bodies, of 
all who refused to conform to the dogmas of a national church. 

After what has been stated in the preceding part of this 
work, it is almost needless to say, that such an intolerant and 
persecuting spirit is diametrically opposite to every prin- 
ciple that prevades the Christian system; and there cannot be 
a grosser misrepresentation of its spirit and tendency, than 
to ascribe such dispositions and conduct to the genius of that 
religion which Intolerance has thought proper to assume. 
Can a single instance be produced of a persecuting spirit in 
the conduct of Jesus Christ, or in that of any one of his apos- 
tles ! When he " was reviled, he reviled not again ; and when 
he suffered, he threatened not; and he solemnly rebuked his 
followers when theleast symptom of intolerance orrevenge was 
displayed. Can a religion, which commands us to love our 
neighbours as ourselves — to be kindly affectionate one to- 
wards another — to love our enemies — to do good to them that 
hate us — to bless them that curse us — and to pray for them that 
despitefnlly use us," — can such a religion be supposed to give 
the least countenance to actions that are both intolerant and 
inhumane ? If the religion of Christ have any one prominent 
object which distinguishes it from all others, it is this — to unite 
mankind in one harmonious and affectionate society ; and such 
an object is altogether incompatible with resentment, intoler- 
ance, or persecution in any shape. " By this shall all men 
know," says Jesus, ;t that you are my disciples, if ye love one 
another." 

Here I must close the illustration of the moral state of man, 
kind, though they might have been carried to a much greater 
extent. They present to every benevolent mind a gloomy 
picture of the moral aspect of the human race, and of the de- 
pravity which the principle of malevolence carries in its train. 
It is a picture which shows us that those moral principles 
and laws which the Creator intended to promote, the felicity 
of all worlds, have never yet been brought into full effect 
in the world in which we live. It is a picture, however, from 
which we ought not to turn away our eyes. It sets before us 
the evils which require to be counteracted, and the obstacles 
which must be surmounted, before the principles of malignity 



GENERAL REFLECTIONS. 



375 



be extirpated, and the moral principles of the Christian system 
take root in the world. But such views of the existing state 
of the moral world, so far from operating as sedatives, ought 
to stimulate us to exert every energy, and to use every judi- 
cious and powerful mean, which has a tendency to promote 
the accomplishment of this important object. 

It would have given me pleasure to have presented before 
the eye of the reader a more cheerful and alluring picture ; 
but " facts are stubborn things," and there is no resisting the 
force of the evidence which they adduce, — I intend to relieve 
some of the dark shades of this picture, by exhibiting some 
faint radiations of truth and benevolence which are still visi- 
ble amidst the surrounding gloom. For, amidst the moral 
darkness which has so long covered the earth some streaks of 
celestial light have always been visible ; and the dawning of 
a brighter day now begins to gild our horizon. Substantial 
knowledge is now beginning to diffuse its benign influence on 
all ranks; the shackles of despotism are bursting asunder; the 
darkness of superstition is gradually dispelling ; the spirit of 
persecution is borne down and powerfully opposed by the force 
of truth and of common sense, and the rights of conscience are 
beginning to be generally recognised. Philanthropic institu- 
tions of various descriptions have been established, education 
is extending its beneficial effects; the instruction of the young 
is becoming an object of more general attention ; philosophi- 
cal institutions, village libraries, and associations for intellectu- 
al improvement, are rapidly organizing ; Bible and missiona- 
ry societies are extending their influence through every portion 
of the religious world, and Christianity is now beginning to dis- 
play its beneficent energies on distantcontinents, and the islands 
of the ocean. — But, instead of entering into details in the illus- 
tration of these and similar effects which have always, in a 
greater or less degree, accompanied the progress of the Chris- 
tian religion, I shall, in the mean time, refer the reader to the 
excellent work of Dr. Ryan, 44 On the History of the effects of 
Religion on Mankind."* 

Here a question may be proposed by some of my readers, — 
[s it possible to bring the inhabitants of this world, in their 
present depraved state, to a general observance of the laws of 
benevolence which have been illustrated in the preceding part 
of this work? To such a question I would reply, — Whatev- 
er man has done, man may do. Amidst the depravity and the 
darkness with which the earth has been generally enveloped, 
individuals have occasionally arisen who have shone as lights 
}n the moral world, and exhibited bright patterns of Christian 



376 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



temper and of active beneficence. The Apostle Paul had hfo 
mind imbued with a large portion of the spirit of love. He 
voluntarily embarked in a tour of benevolence through the 
nations ; and in spite of reproaches, persecutions, stripes and im- 
prisonments ; in the midst of " perils in the waters, perils of rob- 
bers, perils by his own countrymen, perils in the city, and perils 
in the wilderness;" and in the face of every danger, and of death 
itself, he prosecuted, with a noble heroism, his labour of love, 
purely for the sake of promoting the best interests of mankind. 
All the Apostles engaged in the same benevolent undertaking; 
they sacrificed every private interest, every selfish considera- 
tion; "neither counted they their lives dear unto themselves, 
so that they might finish their course with joy," and be the 
means of accomplishing the salvation of their fellow-men. 

Even in our own times, many distinguished individuals have 
arisen, who have reflected honour on our species. The name 
of Howard is familiar to every one who is in the least acquaint- 
ed with the annals of philanthropy, (see p. 41.) This excel- 
lent man, and truly philanthropic character, devoted his time, 
his strength, his genius, his literary acquisitions, and his 
fortune, and finally sacrificed his life, in the pursuits of human- 
ity, and in the unwearied prosecution of active benevolence. 
He travelled over every country in Europe, and in the adjaceu 
regions of Asia, impelled by the spirit of Christian love, in 
order to survey the mansions of sorrow and of pain, and to de- 
vise schemes for the relief of human wretchedness wherever it 
existed ; and, in the execution of this scheme of benevolence 
the energies of his mind were so completely absorbed, that 
"he never suffered himself, for a moment, to be diverted from 
carrying it into effect, even by the most attractive of those ob- 
jects which formerly possessed all their most powerful influ- 
ence upon his curiosity and his taste."* 

The late Walter Venning, Esq. who has been denominated, 
by Prince Galitzin, the second Howard, walked in the steps 
of his illustrious predecessor, and with the most fervent Chris- 
tian zeal, devoted his short, but useful life, to the allevia- 
tion of human misery, and to the promotion of the best inter- 
ests of thousands of wretched individuals who " were ready to 
perish." He withdrew himself from the ordinary round of 
genteel society, and declined all commercial business, that he 
might devote the whole energies of his soul to benevolent oc- 
cupations. He commenced his philanthropic career, by co-ope- 

*For a particular account of the labours of this eminent philanthropist, 
•ee Brown's i4 Memoirs of the public and private ±ife of John Howard*" 



EXAMPLES OF BENEVOLENCE. 



377 



rating in the formation of the " Society for improvement of 
Prison discipline," which was formed in London in 1816 ; and 
afterwards visited the prisons in Petersburgh, Novogorcd, 
Tver, Moscow, and other cities in the Russian empire. The 
prisons, hospitals, work-houses, mad-houses, houses of correc- 
tion, and the abodes of misery of every description in Peters- 
burgh, were visited by him, day after day: " and many a pris- 
oner, bowed down with affliction and iron was cheered, instruct- 
ed, and saved by his ministrations;" for his philanthropy ex- 
tended bath to the bodies and to the souls of men.* 

Many other examples might be produced from the annals of 
our times, and of illustrious characters, presently existing, to 
demonstrate, that a noble and disinterested benevolence is a 
principle, capable of being exercised even in the present de- 
generated state of the inhabitants of our world. We find pa- 
rents some times displaying a high degree of benevolent feel- 
ing towards their offspring, and sacrificing their ease, and 
their personal interests, in order to secure their health, their 
happiness, and enjoyments. We find bosom friends like Da- 
vid and Jonathan, and like Damon and Pythias, rejoicing 
in the welfare of each other, and encountering difficulties and 
dangers in promoting the interests of the objects of their 
friendship. What, then, should hinder such dispositions from 
becoming universal? What should hinder them from being 
transferred to all the sensitive and intellectual beings, with 
whom we may have occasion to correspond, or to associate ? 
Would not the universal exercise of such dispositions be high- 
ly desirable? would it not tend to banish war and discord from 
the world, and promote peace on the earth, and good will 
among men ? Why, then, are such dispositions so seldom dis- 
played ? Not because the universal exercise of them is a thing 
impossible ; but because men, actuated by selfishness, are un- 
willing to give full scope to the benevolent affections ; because 
they have never yet employed all the requisite means for 
bringing them into full operation. If ail the energies of the 
intellect, and all the treasures which have been expended in 
fostering malignant passions, and in promoting contentions and 
warfare, had been devoted to the great object of cultivating 
the principle of benevolence, and distributing happiness among 
men; the moral and physical aspect of our world, would 
long ago have assumed a very different appearance from what 
it now wears. 

* Mr. Venning died in Petersburgh in 1821, in the fortieth year of his 
age. 

32* 



378 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



The philanthropic individuals, to whom I have alluded, 
were men, whose actions were sometimes blended with the fail- 
ings and imperfections incident to degenerated humanity ; but 
the principle of benevolence ruled supreme over all the subor- 
dinate affections ; and if the world were peopled with such men, 
notwithstanding the imperfections which attached to ihem, so- 
ciety, in every land, would present the appearence of a moral 
paradise, and form an image of the harmony and felicity of "the 
saints in light.*' Every one who believes in the existence of 
a future state, fondly imagines that he shall enjoy happiness in 
that state. But, whence is his happiness to arise, in the future 
world, but from the exercise of those dispositions which the 
law of God requires? And if the exercise of benevolent dispo- 
sitions be essentially requisite for securing supreme felicity in 
the eternal state, their cultivation, even in the present world, 
must be an indispensable duty, in order to our prcpa ration for 
the employments of the celestial world. For it is a law of the 
Creator, which is eternal and immutable, that ''without holi- 
ness, no man can see the Lord." And whenever the requisite 
means aie employed for the cultivation of holy and benefi- 
cent depositions, we may rest assured, that our labour will be 
crowned with success. For the energy of the divine Spirit, 
from whom proceedeth every good and perfect gift, is promised 
to accompany the use of every proper mean, so as to rendei 
it effectual for counteracting the effects of moral evil, and fox 
promoting the renovation of the world. 

We have examples before us, not only of a few insulated in 
dividuals, but of societies, where the principle of benevolence 
in a greater* or less degree, prevades the whole mass. Tho 
people who have been denominated Quakers, have always been 
distinguished by their humane and peaceable dispositions, their 
probity and hospitality to each other, the cheerfulness of 
their manners, their opposition to war, and the active zeal 
which they have displayed in contributing to the good of man- 
kind. The Moravians are also distinguished for their affec- 
tionate intercourse with each other, the liberality of their 
dispositions, the peaeeableness of their tempers, the puri- 
ty and simplicity of their lives, and their missionary efforts 
for evangelizing the heathen world.* Would to God that the 

* The following anecdote, is illustrative of the character of many of 
the Moravians, or Hernhutters as they are sometimes called.— In a late 
war in Germany, a captain of cavalry was ordered out on a foraging par 
ty. He put himself at the head of his troop, and marched to the quarter 
assigned him. It was a solitary valley, in which hardly any thing but 
woods was to be r>cen. In the midst stood a little cottage; on perceiving 
Uhfc rode up, and knocked at the door; out comes an ancient Hernhut- 



MEANS OF PROMOTING BENEVOLENCE. 



379 



whole world were Quakers and Moravians, notwithstanding 
their peculiarities of opinion ! With all their foibles and im- 
perfections, society would then wear a more beautiful and allur- 
ing aspect than it has ever yet done; peace and industry 
would be promoted : the fires of persecution would be quenched; 
philanthropy would go forth among the nations, distributing a 
thousand blessings, and the people would learn war, no more. 

I intend in this place, to inquire into the means by which 

THE PRACTICE OF CHRISTIAN MORALITY MIGHT BE PROMOTED. 

But I find that this is a subject which would require a distinct vol- 
ume for its illustration. At present, I can suggest only two or 
three hints. 

In the first place, The intellectual instruction of the young, 
should be an object of universal attention, both in public 
and private. For true knowledge is the spring of all reli- 
gious emotions, and of all virtuous actions. By intellectual 
instruction, I do not mean merely a series of exercises in spell- 
ing, pronouncing, parsing, construing, writing, and figuring; 
but a communication of the elements of thought, and of clear 
and extensive conceptions of the physical and moral relations 
of the universe. — 2. The moral instruction of the young should 
be an object of particular and incessant attention. Moral in- 
struction should be inculcated, not merely by a reiteration of 
dry precepts, maxims, and abstract doctrines, or by a reference to 
the details and flimsy sentiments contained in fictitious narra- 

ter with a board silvered by age. " Father," says ihe officer, " show me 
a field where I can set my troopers a foraging." u Presently," replied the 
Hernhutter. The good old man walked before, and conducted them 
out of the vai.ey. After a quarter of an hour's march, they found a field 
of barley. u There is the very thing we want," says the Captain. — 
44 Have patience for a v ery few minutes," replied the guide' " and you 
shall be satisfied." They went on, and, about the distance of a quarter 
of a league farther, they arrived at another field of barley. The troop 
immediately dismounted, cut down the grain, trussed it up, and remount- 
ed. The o'licer upon this, says to his conductor, " Father you have 
given yourself and us unnecessary trouble; the first field was much bet- 
ter than this." "Very true, Sir," replied the good old man. " but it 
was not mine." — Here we have a beautiful practical exhibition of 
love to our neighbour, and of calm resignation to the providential dispen- 
sations of God. How few professed Christians have been found acting in 
this manner! And yet I doubt not, that this good man would experience 
more true satisfaction in the temper and conduct he displayed, than if lie 
had offered resistance, practised dissimulation, or set them to plunder his 
neighbour's field. A number of disinterested actions such as this, would 
contribute more powerfully to the support of the Christian cause than a 
thousand theological disputes, imbued with the spirit and temper with 
Which they have been most frequently conducted. 



380 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



tives; but by a pointed and pacific reference to real facis ; as 
exhibited in the Sacred History, the annals of nations, and 
n the scenes of the family, and of general society, I would 
expect no greater assistance in the work of moral instruction 
from the Religious novels with which the Christian world is 
now deluged, than I would do from a circulation of the Pious 
Frauds which were so common in the first ages of the church. 
In schools, and in families, every thing which has a tendency, 
either directly or indirectly to foster pride, envy, contention, 
revenge, and other malignant affections, should be firmly and 
sedulously discouraged and counteracted ; and higher rewards 
(If rewards be expedient) should in every instance, be bestow r - 
ed on the individual who cultivates and displays benevolent 
affections, than on him who is distinguished merely for intel- 
lectual acquirements. Hitherto, a more decided preference 
seems to have been given to what is termed genius than to 
moral accomplishments. — 3. Institutions should be formed for 
communicating literary and scientific knowledge, blended with 
moral and religious instructions, to persons of both sexes, and 
of every rank and age, from fifteen years and upwards, par- 
ticularly to apprentices, journeymen, clerks, shop-keepers, 
and others, for the purpose of calling forth into action the en- 
ergies of their minds, and for preventing the growth of ha- 
bits of dissipation. In such institutions, the manifestation of 
benevolent affections, and propriety of moral conduct, should 
be made the conditions of enjoying the instructions and privi- 
leges of the association 4. In connexion with these and 

other means, the cause of practical morality would be power- 
fully promoted, were the ministers of religion, among all par- 
ties, to direct their energies to the discussion of moral sub- 
jects, on Christian principles, instead of confining their atten- 
tion almost exclusively to doctrinal discussions. Religion is 
not a system merely of speculative and metaphysical truths, nor 
does it consist in the contemplation of mysterious facts, or in- 
comprehensible dogmas; but it is a rational and tangible sub- 
ject, addressed to the reason, the hopes, and fears, and the 
common sense of mankind ; and therefore, its illustrations 
should be chiefly derived from the facts of Sacred History, 
the system of nature, and from the existing objects, scenes 
and associations with which we are connected. — A much great- 
er degree of animation, and of energy, than is now displayed 
in instructions from the pulpit, is also requisite for arresting 
the attention, and riveting impressions of moral and religious 
truths upon the mind. If fewer sermons were delivered, and 
a greater portion of intellectual energy concentrated in each 



CHRISTIAN UNION. 



381 



discourse; and if preachers, particularly among Dissenters 
had fewer discourses to compose, and more time for taking 
an ample intellectual range through the system of nature, of 
Providence, and of revelation, a more powerful effect would 
undoubtedly be produced on the Christian world, and upon 
all who occasionly attend on the ministrations of religion. 

I need scarcely add, that all such means ought to be accom- 
panied with fervent prayer to the 44 Father of lights," and de- 
pendence on the promised aid of the Spirit of holiness. But 
without the application of all the energetic means which reason 
and revelation suggest, we have no reason to conclude, and it 
would be presumption to expect, that the influences of heaven 
will descend upon the moral world. For it appears, in point 
of fact, to be one part of the plan of the divine procedure, that 
human agents shall be the means of enlightening each other, 
and of promoting the renovation of the world, as 44 workers 
together with God." 

CONCLUSIONS FROM THE GENERAL PRINCIPLES ILLUSTRATED 
IN THIS VOLUME. 

If the general train of sentiment which runs through the 
preceding discussions and illustrations be admitted, the fol- 
lowing conclusions may be deduced respecting, 

I. The subject of preaching, and the grand aim which the 
ministers of religion, in their discourses, ought always to have 
in view.* We have already seen, that it is the great object of 
revelation to bring into practical operation the principles of 
love to God and to man : and, it is obvious, that, what is the 
main object of Christianity to accomplish, ought to be the 
ultimate aim of every Christian preacher. It is not merely to 
convert men to the belief of certain opinions, or to induce 
them to embrace the peculiarities of a party. It is, that they 
may 44 be renewed in the spirit of their minds," and, 44 made 
meet for the inheritance of the saints in light" — it is, that they 
may 44 deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and live soberly, 
righteously, and godly, in the present evil world :" and be 
44 united together in love, which is the bond of perfection." — 
Metaphysical disquisitions, respecting dogmas in religion, have 
very little tendency to meliorate the heart, and to promote 

* The Author originally intended to illustrate 1 his, and the following 
conclusions, at considerable length, and to enter into a variety of circum- 
stantial details ; but, as tne intended illustrations would occupy more 
than a hundred pages, and as the work has already swelled to a consi- 
derable size, he is undor the necessity of postponing them for the present. 



3S2 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



benevolent dispositions and affections. On the contrary, they 
have frequently produced a temper of mind directly opposite 
to the spirit of Christianity. They have led multitudes to 
pique themselves on the supposed purity of their profession, 
and the orthodoxy of their creed, and to point at others as 
heretics, and subverters of the gospel, on account of some 
slight differences in sentiment about a particular doctrine; 
while they themselves have never attempted to cultivate hea- 
venly dispositions, and to display that charity which " suffer- 
ethlong, and is kind, which is not easily provoked, and think- 
eth no evil." There are certain doctrines and facts, which we 
ought always to recognize, and to keep in view as fundamental 
axioms in the Christian system; — such as, that " there is one 
God, and one Mediator between God and man, the man Christ 
Jesus ;" that " he died for our offences, and rose again for 
our justification ;" that "all have sinned and come short of 
the glory of God ;" and that " we are justified freely by his 
grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." But, 
there is no necessity for expatiating almost exclusively on 
these and similar doctrines, as is frequently done, to the ex- 
clusion of practical morality ; since they ought to be regarded 
in the light rather of first principles in religion, than as topics 
which require to be proved by laboured and diffused argu- 
ments. Yet, it is a fact, that such doctrines, which are only 
the means of religion, have been expatiated upon without in- 
termission, as if the simple belief of them were the end of 
religion ; while the great moral object of Christianity has been 
either entirely overlooked, or thrown into the shade. What 
should we think of the instructor of youth, who confined the 
attention of his pupil solely to the characters of the alphabet, 
and to the pronunciation of a few elementary sounds, and 
then dismissed him with a general exhortation, to apply them 
to all the combinations of letters and syllables he might find 
in every book ? Could we ever expect, that, in ordinary cases, 
such a pupil would either make progress in the art of reading, 
or use it as the medium of acquiring knowledge? And what 
shall we think of those who do little more than attempt to ex- 
plain the axioms of the Christian system, but never show their 
bearings on the scenery of real life, nor endeavour to extend 
our views of the providential operations of God, and of the 
glory of his kingdom? If Christianity consisted merely in 
abstract disquisitions, and metaphysical dogmas, such a prac- 
tice might be, in some measure, defensible ; but since it is, in 
every sense of the word, a practical system, it is next to 
trifling with its prominent objects, to confine the range of re- 



MORAL PREACHING. 



383 



ligious discussions within so narrow bounds as is generally 
done by many of those who are designated by the term evan- 
gelical; and argues a complete forgetfulness of the apostle's 
exhortation, " Therefore, leaving the first principles of the 
doctrine of Christ, let us go on to perfection," tracing first 
principles through all their diversified bearings on mortal ac- 
tion, and on Christian contemplation. 

One of the great objects of preaching ought, undoubtedly, 
to be, to investigate the numerous and minute ramifications of 
human conduct ; to explore every avenue of corruption ; to 
endeavour to draw forth from its hiding-place every immoral 
principle and action, which exerts its pernicious influence in 
Christian or in general society; and with all the powers of gra- 
phical description we can command, to portray them before 
the eyes of men, in all their repulsive features, and in all their 
abominations. At the same time, we ought to apply the 
touch-stone of the divine law to every unchristian propensity 
and practice ; to exhibit its contrariety to the spirit of our 
holy religion ; to show how the principle of love ought to 
operate in every given case and circumstance, and in the 
minutest actions of human life; and how very different effects 
would be produced, were the principles laid down by our 
Saviour and his apostles, to operate with full effect throughout 
every department of the moral world. Unless such objects be 
generally aimed at, and steadily kept in view, in the course of 
public instruction, religion will be apt to degenerate into a 
mere rigment, or, at most, into a subject of wrangling, or a 
matter of curious speculation. 

Let no class of religionists presume to tell us, that, if the 
fundamental doctrines of religion be simply declared, Christian 
morality will follow as a matter of course; and that, to expa- 
tiate on any particular branch of social conduct, is to degene- 
rate into legal preaching. If this principle were to be ad- 
mitted, then all the expostulations and denunciations of the 
prophets, all the reproofs and exhortations of the apostles, 
all the moral sermons of our Saviour, and all the minute di- 
rections in reference to moral conduct, detailed in every 
epistle to the Christian churches, may be regarded as egre- 
gious trifling. If it be one grand design of Revelation to 
restore mankind from the ruins of the fall, and to reinstate 
them in that integrity which they at first possessed ; — if it 
was the chief design of " the law and the prophets" to bring 
forth into action, on the theatre of the world, the two funda- 
mental principles of the moral law, as the Lawgiver himsoli" 
has expressly stated. (Matth. xxii. 37—40 ;)— if the sweet 



384 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



singer of Israel devoted a large portion of his inspired strains 
to the celebration of the divine precepts, (Psalm cxix. &c. ;) — 
if most of the sermons and parables of our Saviour have a 
direct bearing on the same important subject ; — if the apostle 
Paul, in his instructions to a Christian minister, enlarged par- 
ticularly on the duties which should be inculcated on the 
various ranks and relations of men, (Titus ii. iii. ;) — if all the 
apostolic letters to the Christian churches are full of minute 
directions, in relation to every branch of moral duty ; — if 
heaven be the scene of perfect moral rectitude, where ardent 
affection towards God, and towards fellow-intelligences, ever 
reigns— where love, peace, and harmony, eternally prevail ; — 
if the happiness of that world depend upon the absence of 
moral evil, and the attainment of moral perfection ; — if the 
present world be a state of preparation for the enjoyments of 
that happier region ; — if this preparation consist in having the 
principles of love to God and toman interwoven through the 
whole constitution of the mind, and brought forth into action 
in the diversified scenes of civil and religious intercourse; — 
if such important effects cannot be produced, unless by laying 
open to view the latent abominations of the heart, by impell 
ing the moral principles of the gospel through all the avenue? 
and windings of the human passions and affections ; and by 
illustrating, with minute particularity, every subordinate 
branch of Christian duty; — : if these positions be admitted, ii 
will follow, that the duties of Christian morality, so far from 
being thrown into an obscure corner, ought to occupy a pro 
minent place in the range of the ministration of every Chris- 
tian minister, who is desirous to promote the improvement ol 
society, and the renovation of the world. 

In short, we expect no grand moral reformation to bf 
achieved — no commencement of the millenneal era of the 
church, till " the watchmen upon Mount Sion," with more 
energy than they have yet displayed, "shall lift up their voice 
like a trumpet, and show to the house of Jacob their trans- 
gressions' 1 — till they "lift it up with strength, and not be 
afraid" of any suspicions that maybe thrown out against their 
orthodoxy, when they show unto men the path of duty in all 
its bearings on the relations of time, and on the employments 
of eternity — till they make the moral principles ol Revelation 
bear, in all their force, not only on the prominent features ot 
social life, but upon every minute ramification of human con- 
duct till every lurking principle of jealousy, envy, avarice, 
and revenge be made to feel their energy — till even the very 
amusements of public and domestic life be made to bend to 



CHURCH CENSURES. 



385 



the eternal laws of rectitude, and to carry on their fronts thai 
noble inscription, " Holiness to the Lord." 

II. If the preceding train of sentiments be admitted, we 
may be directed in our views of the nature and ends o' 
church discipline, and the persons on. whom it ought to be 
exercised. 

In a great majority of Christian churches, censures are in- 
dicted chiefly, or solely, on persons guilty of an external 
oreach of one or two precepts of the decalogue — only one or 
two species of violation of the moral law are considered as 
worthy of cognizance ; while the systematic operations of 
slander, revenge, envy, and avarice — the indications of harsh, 
sour, and ungovernable tempers, and the absence of Christian 
candour and affection — circumstances which display the real 
characters of men far more distinctly than any insulated acts 
of immortality can do — are either wholly overlooked, or con- 
sidered as characteristics of very trivial import. The censures 
to which I allude, are likewise accompanied, in many in- 
stances, with a degree of magisterial haughtiness, severity, 
and unchristian feeling, which is directly repugnant to every 
amiable, candid, and generous principle. A person guilty, in 
a single instance, of a breach of the seventh or eight com- 
mandments, will lie under the frown of a religious society for 
years, and even to the close of his life, notwithstanding every 
evidence he can give of the sincerity of his repentance, and 
even be deprived of the means of earning his subsistence • 
while another may habitually violate almost all the other pre- 
cepts of the decalogue, and be screened from the discipline o* 
the church. He may be avaricious, cunning, and deceitful; 
harsh and unfeeling in his conduct; uncandid and uncharitable 
in his dispositions towards others; proud, selfish, and ob- 
stinate in his temper ; addicted to slander and to incessant 
litigations ; impatient of control ; and boisterous and conten- 
tious in his general deportment — and yet be considered as no 
proper object of censure ; and, though never manifesting the 
least symptom of penitence, will be viewed as a tolerably fair 
character in religious society, especially if he has acquired a 
considerable share of wealth and of influence in general 
society. — Of such cases and practices, the author had selected 
a number of striking examples, which the narrow limits to 
which he is confined in the present work, constrain him, in 
the mean time, to postpone. 

Now, if the general sentiments already thrown out be 
founded on truth, and on the nature of things, such a practice 
03 that to which we allude, must be absurd, unchristian, and 

33 



386 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



inconsistent with the preservation of the moral purity of reli- 
gious society. It has this pernicious tendency, among others, 
that it leads multitudes to imagine, that, if they can keep 
clear of two or three acts of moral delinquency, they may 
trample on every divine principle and law with impunity. A 
poor wretch, under the pressuie of poverty, steals a hen or a 
pocket handkerchief, and, notwithstanding his subsequent re- 
pentance, is banished from social intercourse, and held up to 
execration; while a sanctimonious hypocrite will swindle his 
neighbour out of a hundred pounds, if no criminal law can 
take hold of him, and will retain his station in the church, and 
hold up his face without a blush in the presence of general 
society. It is obvious, if there be any truth in what we have 
hitherto stated, that the general tenor of the conduct, and the 
uniform manifestation of benevolent affections, ought, in every 
case, to from the grand criterion of a man's being entitled to 
the character of a Christian; and, that dispositions of an op- 
posite nature habitually displayed, however much overlooked 
in the general intercourse of life, ought to form a ground of 
exclusion from the society of the faithful. 

III. This subject has a particular bearing upon the divi- 
sions which subsist in the religious world, and the grand prin- 
ciples which ought to form a bond of union among all who 
acknowledge the truth of the Christian Revelation. — If the 
train of thought illustrated in the preceding pages be correct, 
it will follow, that a cordial union of the various sections of 
the Christian church is to be expected from the cultivation of 
the Spirit of Love, more than from any attempt to produce 
an exact coincidence of opinion on these theological points 
in which they now differ. Wherever this spirit is found ex- 
panding the soul, and governing the affections, it will lead its 
possessors to view the peculiar opinions of others with can- 
dour; to respect their persons; to allow them liberty of 
thought on all the subordinate ramifications of theological 
sentiment ; and to set a higher value on moral qualifications, 
and the manifestation of benevolent affections, than on those 
circumstantial opinions which do not enter into the essence 
of the Christian scheme. If the professing Christian world 
were thoroughly investigated, it would be found, that it is 
owing more to the absence of this spirit, that Christians stand 
so much aloof from each other, than to the speculative opi- 
nions which they respectively maintain. The prevalent dis- 
position for sneering at other denominations, and the pleasure 
that seems to be felt in laying open their sores, will generally 
be found to proceed from a principle of pride, and of sel£ 



CHRISTIAN UNION. 



387 



conceit in regard to our own favourite opinions, some of 
which, when probed to the bottom, will be found as rotten as 
our neighbour's. Why are men not as much disposed to pass 
encomiums on what is sound in the opinions, and laudable in 
the conduct, of other parties, as they are to censure them for 
minor peculiarities of sentiment? Why? Because it appears, 
that many professed Christians take more delight in the exer- 
cise of malevolent feelings than of benevolent affections ; and 
are like flics, that pass over the sound parts of a man's body, 
and fix upon his sores. Till such unchristian dispositions be 
undermined, and tempers of an opposite description pervade 
the ranks of Christian society, we can expect no cordial nor 
lasting union in the visible church, however many ingenious 
schemes may be formed, to bring about this desirable event. 
For every effect must have an adequate cause : this cause will 
be found to consist more in the affection than in opinion ; and 
a union formed on an apparent coincidence of sentiment, un- 
mingled with ardent love and affection, would be unworthy of 
the name, and would soon be dissolved. 

It can form no decisive mark of a man's Christianity, that 
he recognizes the peculiar opinions of the Baptists or Paedo- 
Baptists, of Presbyterians, Episcopalians, or Independents ; 
it is a matter, comparatively of little importance, whether a 
man believes that Christ was an actual or a virtual Mediator 
under the Old Testament ; whether he be designated the Son 
of God in virtue of his office, or of his nature ; whether or not 
we be guilty of Adam's first sin ; whether the transaction 
which passed between him and his Creator, should be viewed 
as a law, or as a covenant ; whether the ordinance of bap- 
tism should be administered by dipping, or by sprinkling, &c. 
&c. — But it is, unquestionably, a matter of the highest mo- 
ment, both to the person himself, and to Christian society, 
that his temper, affections, and conduct, should be in unison 
with the holy law of God, and that he should display the love 
which it requires, in all his social, commercial, domestic, and 
Christian intercourses; — and if such dispositions and conduct 
were universally to prevail among the various denominations 
of the Religious world, union would soon follow, as a matter 
of course. — If, therefore, we wish to behold the unhappy divi- 
sions of the church cemented, let us cultivate, with ardour, 
those amiable and affectionate dispositions which our Benevo 
lent Religion inculcates, and be more anxious to correct our 
own mental and moral aberrations, than to magnify the errors 
and the faults of others. Let us make every allowance for 
the effects which education, habit, temper, local circumstances, 



388 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



and particular associations, may have produced on the opi- 
nions of our supposed erring brethren ; and let us consider, 
that we ourselves, had we been placed in the same circum- 
stances, might have imbibed the same sentiments. Let us 
endeavour to acquire cle&r ahd^well-defined ideas on every 
subject connected with religion ; that we may not contend 
about' trifles, about mere abstract ideas, or the application of 
particular terms or phrases. Let us keep our eyes fixed on 
the great and prominent objects of Revelation, and on all the 
subordinate, active means by which they may be promote^. 
Let U3 consider religion as consisting more in action, tharrln 
speculation. Let our love to Christian brethren be founded, 
not so much on a general coincidence of opinion, as on the 
resemblance they bear to the Divine image ; and then we may 
confidently expect, that that period will soon approach, when 
the saints of God " shall see eye to eye," in reference to all 
the grand bearings of the Gospel scheme, and when the name 
o f Jehovah shall be one throughout all the earth. 

IV. We may learn from the subject we have been illustrat- 
ing, what notions we ought to form of the nature of a future 
state of happiness, and of the preparation requisite to enable 
us to engage in itc employments. — The felicity of the future 
world will not consist simply in a change of place ; nor will it 
consist chiefly in change of sentiment or opinion. Its founda- 
tion must be laid in the principle of Love, and in the com- 
plete renovation of the moral powers of the human mind, 
without which no celestial scene could produce permanent 
enjoyment. Although all the theologians who now exist were 
united in opinion about every article of the system of Divini 
ty ; and although they were transported to the most splendid 
world that revolves around the star Arcturus ; after the first 
transports, arising from the novelty and the grandeur of the 
scene had subsided, they would enjoy little more happiness in 
that orb, than they do in this terrestrial sphere, unless they 
were actuated with moral dispositions and affections very dif- 
ferent from those which many of ihem now display. For, not 
only rancour and malice, but even coldness and indifference 
to the welfare of others, would prevent happiness from being 
enjoyed in any region of the material universe. All who be- 
lieve in the reality of a future world, indulge in anxious wishes 
to be made happy when they pass from this mortal scene to 
the world of spirits. F* r en wicked men, whose consciences 
frequently forebode evil to them in the other world, indulge 
the hope that God will ultimately be merciful to them, and 
$dmit them to the joys of heaven. But this is impossible^ ir 



MEANS OF CHRISTIAN UNION. 



3811 



the very nature of things, unless they be "renewed in the 
spirit of their minds," and endowed with those holy disposi- 
tions which alone can qualify them for relishing substantial 
happiness, and for participating in 41 the inheritance of the 
saints of light." How could Malignity associate with Benevo- 
lence, Contention with Friendship, or War with Peace ? How 
could the sons of discord dwell in unity, in an assembly where 
all is harmony and love ? How could the malicious and re- 
vengeful spirit find delight in the employments of kindness 
and pure benignity ? How could the man who now finds his 
chief pleasure in hounding and horse-racing, in brawling and 
fighting, have any relish for the sublime adorations, the en- 
raptured praises, and the lofty and refined contemplations, 01 
the celestial inhabitants? The thing is impossible, unless the 
moral order of all worlds were completely subverted. Such 
characters will be banished from the abodes of bliss; not by 
any arbitrary decree of the Almighty, but in virtue of the 
moral constitution of the intelligent universe. 

It is, therefore, evident, that the happiness of heaven must 
be founded upon the exercise of love, affection, harmony, per- 
fect good-will to fellow-intelligences, and the infinite variety 
of ramifications into which such principles may diverge ; 
combined with profound, enlightened, and venerable views 
and affections, in relation to the God and Father of our Lord 
Jesus Christ. When these and similar dispositions are uni- 
formly exercised, without the least mixture of any one ingre- 
dient of moral evil, it is easy to conceive, with what transports 
of delight the inhabitants of heaven will contemplate the dis- 
plays of Divine Fower, Wisdom, and Goodness, and investi- 
gate the history of his dispensations in the moral government 
of our world, and in the arrangements of all the other worlds 
whose physical and moral economy may be laid open to their 
view.* 

Such views are in perfect accordance with the representa- 
tions of Scripture. — 44 Without holiness, no man shall see the 
Lord." 44 The pure in heart (and they alone) shall see God," 
44 Nothing that worketh abomination, can enter within the 
gates of the heavenly city." 44 As we have borne the image of 
the earthly, (says the Apostle,) so shall we bear the image of 

* The Author will have an opportunity of illustrating- this topic in 
more minute detail, in a work entitled, lk The Philosophy of a Future 
State; or, an Illustration of the Connexion of Science with the Eternal 
World, — and of tho Aids which its Discoveries afford, for enabling usU 
form a conception of the perpetual improvement of the celestial inhabit 
ants in knowledge and felicity." 



390 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 



the heavenly." " Christ Jesus gave himself for the church, 
that he might sanctify and cleanse it, and that he might pre- 
sent it to himself a glorious church, holy, and without blemish." 
The crown of glory, reserved in heaven for the faithful, is de- 
signated "a crown of righteousness." "The spirits of just 
men," in the future wurld, " are made perfect," freed from 
every taint of moral pollution, and unrestrained in the ex- 
ercise of their moral powers. The inheritance to which they 
are destined, is " undefiled" with the least stain of corruption, 
or with the example of impure and malignant spirits. " When 
Christ, who is our life, shall appear, we shall be like him ;" 
transformed into his moral image, and animated with those 
Divine principles and virtues, which he displayed in his con- 
duct, when he tabernacled among men. The saints " shall 
walk with him in white," an emblem of their perfect moral pu- 
rity ; " they shall receive an inheritance among them that are 
sanctified ;" and " there shall be no more death, neither sor- 
row, nor crying; for the former things shall have passed 
away." 

V. From the preceding illustrations we may learn some- 
thing of the nature and essence of future punishment. If the 
exercise of love, in all its diversified modifications, constitutes 
the foundation and the essence of happiness, the unrestrained 
operations of malevolence must be the source and the sum of 
misery. We cannot form a more dreadful picture of future 
punishment, than by conceiving the principles of falsehood, 
deceit, and malignity, and the passions of pride, hatred, 
malice, and revenge, raging with uncontrolled and perpetual 
violence. We need represent to ourselves nothing more 
horrible in the place of punishment, than by supposing the 
Almighty simply to permit wicked men to give full scope to 
their malevolent dispositions; leaving them "to eat of the 
fruit of their own ways, and to be filled with their own devices." 
The effects produced by the uncontrolled operation of such 
principles and passions would be such, as may be fitly repre- 
sented by the emblems of " the worm that never dies," of 
"devouring fire," and of their necessary concomitants, 
"weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth." (See Chap. 
II. Sect. iv. pp. 127 — 136.) What other ingredients of mise- 
ry, arising either from local circumstances, from the recollec- 
tion of the past, or the anticipation of the future, may be 
mingled with the cup of future wo, it becomes not us particu- 
larly to determine. And, whether this scene of misery will 
ever come to a termination, must be determined by the con- 
sideration, whether the efiects produced by such a punish- 



FUTURE STATE OF MISERY. 



391 



ment will have a tendency to produce repentance and reforma- 
tion on the minds of the sufferers. If, after a lapse of ages, 
the principles of hatred to God, and to surrounding intelli- 
gences, continue to operate with increasing violence, without 
producing the least desire of returning to their allegiance to 
God, or the least symptom of reformation, — then, we may 
conclude, that the misery of wicked intelligences will continue 
so long as they remain in existence. 



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